Coward's Punch
by donna2712
Summary: It takes only one punch to the head to seriously injure, or even kill someone. It is know has a "king hit" but that sounds to grand for what it is. What it really is is a "Coward's Punch" because only a coward would hit someone with no warning, no ability to defend themselves. This is the story of one such hit and how it effects everyone around them.
1. Chapter 1

**I am back with another story. Sorry I haven't updated the others but I have actually be busy writing my novel which is not fan fiction based. During a bit of writers block I have gone back over some stories and found this little gem which is actually complete! Yes this story is FINISHED and I will be posting chapters regularly until it is all done.**

 **As always I love to hear any comments or questions you have about the story. This one was written fairly early in Season 12 so it was after Tony met Zoe but before Ned was killed so technically I suppose this is now an AU story. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it.**

 **Chapter 1:**

Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo had parked his rental car outside of his NCIS provided apartment and was walking towards his favourite Italian takeaway shop, Toscano's, when his phone buzzed.

He checked it and saw a text message from McGee; _Dorneget just tripped over one of Bishops bags, ran into Gibbs who dropped his coffee and now I think Dorneget may just wet his pants if Gibbs doesn't hit him first._ There was also a photo attached which showed a 6 foot 4 ruffle haired Ned Dorneget standing in front of Gibbs and although Ned had a 3 inch height advantage, he looked like a kid about to be reprimanded by the headmaster. Tony couldn't help but feel sorry for him. After all Tony had been on the receiving end of that Gibbs stare way to many times to remember.

Tony simply replied with _Ouch! :0._

Considering Washington DC was three hours ahead of this Washington the team must have been having another late night. He could relate, as this was the first Friday in Seattle that he had managed to close the office at 1800 hours. The team was still on call for the weekend, but going home this early was a treat.

Tony had just finished the ninth week in a twelve-week stint as acting Supervisory Special Agent of the Northeast Field Office in Seattle. Well Silverdale technically but no one knew where Silverdale was. It was easier to say Seattle … to anyone other than a Silverdalian. While he had enjoyed his time, he was really starting to miss home. McGee, Abby and Bishop were doing their best to keep him up to date with events in the office, and they video chatted when they could, but it wasn't the same as being there.

Gibbs would call if he needed to ask Tony a question about a case but hang up as soon as Tony responded. Gibbs wasn't one for small talk although he did surprise Tony a couple of weeks ago when he called up out of the blue and asked, "You good?" After Tony got over the initial shock he told him about his work, and the people he was working which but when there was a slight pause in the conversation, Gibbs went, "Ok then," and ended the call, obviously satisfied that Tony was fine. Tony was amazed that something so small could make him feel all warm and fuzzy. That one comment from Gibbs was akin to Abby hugging and holding you and saying "there, there, there; you're going to be ok and we all love you and want you to feel better." Well that is how it felt to him.

Both Ducky and Jimmy Palmer kept in contact, usually by email, Ducky preferring the artistry of the written word, while Palmer would just send off a joke he received, or even a dirty picture or two. Tony was kind of proud of the Autopsy Gremlin being a closeted porn fan. Well that was until he noticed that _Breena_ was the one who had forwarded one of the ruder pictures to Palmer! Jimmy's sweet blonde, butter-wouldn't-melt-in-her-mouth, _wife_ was sending him porn. Tony didn't know weather to be impressed or horrified. He would definitely need to talk to Palmer about this when he got back home. It couldn't help but make him think about what the Palmer's sex life was like. Sex … he missed sex.

His new Seattle team consisted of Rebecca Cameron, a good agent with brains and guts and a single mum to a three-year-old girl. He could tell her heart was no longer in the job and knew he would need to report that to Vance when his tenure was up.

Then there was Liam O'Malley, a young probationary agent who had a great natural instinct and Tony had a feeling O'Malley was going to go far at NCIS assuming the FBI or another alphabet agency didn't poach him first. He also liked that fact that he was able to use all his best McNicknames and recycle them as O'Nicknames. Made him feel more at home. He also liked O'Malley's sense of humour. You see O'Malley was gay and not a day goes past that he doesn't try to hit on Tony knowing full well that Tony is straight. It usually ends with a sigh and, "are you _sure_ you don't want to try being gay … just this once."

Tony response was always, "are you sure you don't want to go to another Sexual Harassment Seminar?" but Tony's smile always gave the game away.

McGee thought it was hilarious, "You know what he is don't you?" he asked Tony one day.

"No what?"

"He's _your_ DiNozzo!" Tony hung up while Tim was still laughing.

He also had a forensic tech who was OK but certainly no Abby. Treyvon Diggs was so nerdy he made McGee look like … well Magnum PI. He was African American and his hair was longer which formed a bit of an afro, which he then lacquered down with some super hold gel and he wore thick black glasses and yes, there was white tape holding the nose piece together. He also had a stutter that got worse when he was nervous and he was always nervous around Tony even thought Tony had done nothing, he thought, to cause that. O'Malley told him that the whole "Gibbs Team" were like living legends and Treyvon was especially nervous because not only was Tony "that DiNozzo!" he was actually _friends_ , not just work mates, with Abigail Scuito. In Treyvon's eyes, Tony was a friend with his Goddess, and how could he not be nervous in that situation.

There were also a couple of female administration workers who job shared and to be honest, they looked so much alike Tony was still not sure to this day which one was Laura and which one was Lara. Yes that was really their names. They assured him they were not related but he seriously had his doubts. He was sure it was some huge practical joke being played on him.

The Northwest office was quite busy, not as busy as Washington but their area was pretty expansive covering Canada and Alaska to the north, down to Oregon to the south and out to the eastern borders of Montana and Wyoming.

His phone buzzed again and it was a text from Abby _Whatcha doin?_

He smiled at Abby's standard question she sent off at any time, day or night. Sometimes he was too busy to answer but tonight he shot back straight away _Think I am coming down with a cold so quiet weekend ahead. About to pick up my order of pizza, grab a bottle of wine, toss down a couple of cold and flu tables and settle in for a weekend of Bond… James Bond._

 _No hot date? A little cold never stopped you before!_

He grimaced. That was one reason he had been so keen to take this job. After the last year of moping around following Ziva's departure, he had finally picked himself up, dusted himself off and got back out there into the dating world. And not just to screw around like he used to. He was ready for a _real_ relationship. And he thought he had found it with Zoe, his old partner from his days in Philadelphia. They quickly moved from reacquainted friends to having a romantic relationship.

They had been dating steadily for months and Tony was ready to take it to the next level. Sadly, Zoe apparently wasn't on the same page and decided to break it off the same weekend that Tony had decided to ask her to move in with him. Apparently she thought he was to "closed off" and wouldn't "show his true feelings," and wasn't "the same guy I knew in Philly." And Tony had tried, _really_ tried with Zoe. He had told her more than he had told anyone about himself although he if he was honest with himself, he knew there was more to give but it was so damn hard to trust someone _that much_ after all the times he had been let down by those he trusted through is life. Once again Anthony DiNozzo was left reeling and broken hearted so when this opportunity to move across the country came up a week later, he thought it would be a great place to go and lick his wounds away from the caring yet prying eyes of his friends. It had worked to a degree but he still wasn't ready to date. He responded to Abby, _Nope, still considering taking up O'Malley's offer to go gay … straight no longer seem to be working for me!_

 _LOL Well have a good one and hope you don't get sick. I will try and call this weekend but the nuns and I have a charity bowling event so I might not get time. Miss you xxx_

 _Miss you too Abs xxx_

Tony hit send and then felt a pain explode on the right side of his head. He fell and felt another harder blow to his left temple and then … nothing. The world turned off.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Wow! Overwhelmed by the number of follows already. I should warn you that this story is over 50,000 words so it is technically a novel! it has 23 chapters at present (number may alter as I go through and edit each chapter) and I will be posting one a day or every second day so you have a few weeks of NCIS angst ahead of you. Again, thank you so much for all the follows and those of you who have been kind enough to leave a review. Here is chapter two.**

 **Chapter 2:**

It was seven am on Tuesday morning when Tim walked into the NCIS squad room. Ellie Bishop was already there, concentrating on some files while munching on a breakfast burrito. Obviously needing to make some sort of connection in her head she was hoping the Mexican goodness would help. Tim didn't really understand how her brain worked, and he was pretty sure she didn't either, but somehow it did. "Morning Bishop," he said as he walked past her desk.

"Huh, oh yeah, hi Tim," she frowned and went back to her files then cried out, "OREOS!" before jumping up from the desk and running towards the break room. Tim shook his head. No definitely didn't understand her head at all.

He glanced over at Tony's desk whose current, temporary occupant, Ned Dorneget, was nowhere to be seen.

Tim threw his pack in its usual place behind his desk and settled in for the day. The last couple of weeks had been hell. They had worked all weekend only finally closing the case yesterday, Monday morning. Gibbs had been kind enough to let them go about three yesterday afternoon and McGee, while having finally had a good and long nights sleep, was hoping for a bit of break before another case came down.

Gibbs strode into the room with his morning coffee in hand and settled in behind his desk with nothing more than a tilt of his head in greeting to Tim. "Morning Boss."

Ned finally arrived ten minutes later looking like he had been pulled through a bush backwards. His hair, while usually scruffy, was a mess, even for him. Shirt ruffled and tie untied and he was carrying his shoes and socks. He tore into the squad room obviously panicked. Tim was worried. "What happened Ned?"

Ned began in his surprisingly high pitched but husky voice, "I know I'm sorry. The power in my building went off and then the alarm on my phone didn't go off like it usually does and when I woke up I just grabbed my stuff and ran out the door. I dressed as well as I could at the traffic lights, but today I didn't seem to stop at too many so I'm sorry I'm late and it won't happen again Gibbs," he finally took a breath, "please don't fire me!"

McGee and Bishop both looked over at Gibbs to see his reaction. Gibbs looked up at the tall man, his expression unreadable. In a voice as cold as steel he said, "Dorneget, do you know what time it is?"

"No, am I really late? I mean I just didn't stop and look I just … you know … bolted as soon as I saw my clock flashing."

Bishop couldn't stifle her giggle. Ned looked over at her then up and down at himself hoping he hadn't left his fly undone or something.

"You know work starts at oh-eight-hundred, Dorneget."

"I do agent Gibbs, I really do! I'm so sorr… Rule 13! Sorry! Damn it!"

This time it was McGee's turn to laugh. Gibbs also couldn't help the smile that came across his face. The look of surprise and confusion on Ned's face just made Tim and Bishop laugh all the more.

"Dorneget, it isn't even oh-seven-fifteen yet. You aren't late, your forty-five minutes early." Gibbs smiled before saying, "keep up the good work."

It was at that moment that Tim took a photo of Ned's face as the realisation of what had happened hit him. Tony was going to get a kick out of this one!

Dorneget slumped into his chair muttering under his breath something that sounded to Tim very much like, "I am such an idiot," as he started to put his shoes and socks on. Tim decided this was too much for a text and started to type up an email to Tony. Tony will be so pissed he missed this.

However, before Tim could finish the email and send it, Director Vance entered the squad room and stood in front of Gibbs desk.

Gibbs glanced up and quirked an eyebrow, "Something I can help you with Director?"

Vance looked as if he was trying to consider his words before he finally asked, "Have you heard from DiNozzo?"

Gibbs sat up straighter, "Not since last week? Why?"

"It's probably nothing, don't want to alarm you but…"

"But _what_ Leon?"

"I didn't receive Tony's weekly report yesterday."

" _And_ …?" Gibbs looked at him like he was crazy. "I'm still waiting on reports from DiNozzo from last _decade_!"

"I know, it's just since he has been in the Northwest office he hasn't missed sending in his weekly status report. Every Monday, straight after lunch there it is. When I hadn't received it by last night I called the office and they said that Tony hadn't turned up to work." The other members of the team didn't miss Gibbs head tilt and the slight frown that crossed his features. Something wasn't sitting right with him. Vance continued, "They assumed he was having the day off because he said he thought he was getting a cold but it isn't like DiNozzo to not tell someone if he isn't coming in."

"No it's not. Did you try calling him?"

"Of course, but it went straight to voicemail. That was why I was wondering if you had heard from him. Like I say it is probably nothing."

"No, that's not nothing. Something is wrong."

Vance sighed, "Now don't jump to conclusion Gibbs." But Gibbs was already out of his seat and heading to McGee.

"When was the last time you heard from Tony?" Gibbs asked McGee.

Tim thought back, "Ah, I received a text on Friday night."

Gibbs turned and looked at both Bishop and Dorneget but they both shook their heads indicating that they had heard nothing since then.

He turned back to McGee, "Call Abby and see if she has heard from him. She usually calls him over the weekend." Gibbs strode back to his desk and picked up his own phone.

Tim picked up the phone and dialled Abby's lab. He knew he would have to tread lightly with Abby or she could fly into a panic, "You have reached the amazing and talented Miss Abigail Scuito. How may I help you this fine day?"

"Hey Abby, I was wondering when did you last hear from Tony?" He held his breath hoping his voice sounded light and easy and didn't betray any of the worry that was starting to seep into his bones.

"Why, what's wrong, what's going on, is something wrong with Tony?"

"No Abby nothing is wrong," he crossed his fingers under the desk as he always did when he had to lie, "we just … um… think there is something wrong with his phone. Yeah that's it, and we need to know when it stopped working."

Abby remained silent and he could just imagine her squinting her eyes as she realised he was lying to her, and not well. "Something is going on and I need to know what it is."

Tim sighed, realising the jig was up, "Look Abby I will explain it all in a minute but can you just tell us when you last heard from Tony."

"I called him Sunday night but it went to voicemail so I assumed he was trying to sleep off his cold but before that…" he could hear her scratching around before she finished, "yeah here it is, I received a text from him on Friday night at 9:33. What's going on McGee. Is Tony alright?"

Tim covered the mouthpiece and told Gibbs about the text and then returned to Abby. "It's probably nothing but the director didn't receive a report from him yesterday and he didn't turn up to work."

"But Tony wouldn't do that McGee, he always calls in when he is sick! In fact he doesn't call in, he comes in because I can count on one hand how many times Tony has missed work because he is sick and a little cold would _not_ keep Tony away from work. He came in after the plague McGee. The _pa-lague!_ Something is wrong, something is very wrong. Trace his phone McGee. Find where his phone is. Hurry up!"

Tim started to do just that, "Good idea Abby." He typed in Tony's number to the program that locates phones but there was no response.

Gibbs had just hung up from Ducky who also confirmed he and Palmer had not heard from Tony since last week. "Trace his phone McGee."

"Ah, I am, I mean I did, well I am trying to do that but his phone must be turned off."

"What about his last location? Can you find that out?" Gibbs asked, now leaning over Tim's shoulder. He could feel the nervous energy waves coming from Gibbs. Or maybe they were his.

With the phone still cradled between his shoulder and his ear he started typing away. After a few minutes he confirmed that the text to Abby was the last action and he had a street location.

Vance looked at the address, "That is just near the apartment he is staying in. See he probably is just sick and forgot to charge his phone."

Gibbs was unconvinced, as was Abby on the other end of the phone who both started to voice their opinions… loudly.

"Look, calm down everyone. The Seattle office will be open in a few hours, I will make a call and if Tony still hasn't turned up I will send one of them around to check on him, OK."

Gibbs nodded his ascent but everyone could tell he wasn't happy about it. Tim and Bishop made mental notes not to annoy Gibbs for the next couple of hours and they silently prayed that Ned would do the same.

The next few hours dragged by even with the constant calls from Abby asking if they had heard anything so when the Director finally came down the stairs at half past eleven, all eyes looked his way. "He didn't turn up again this morning so I sent Special Agent O'Malley out to check on his apartment but he wasn't there."

"Director…" Gibbs began.

Vance held up his hand to stop him, "Wait, there's more. I have just received another phone call, this one from the Seattle police force. They arrested someone last night during an armed robbery and they have just traced the gun used. It's registered to Tony. His back up piece I am assuming." Gibbs looked at Vance, their facial expressions having their own conversation. "There is an army plane leaving for Alaska in an hour and they have agreed to make a detour to drop you off."

"McGee, you're with me." Both men grabbed their packs and were out the door to Andrews Air Force Base to catch their plane to Seattle.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: 2 chapters in and I am already up to 72 follows and favourites. Thank you all so much for taking the time to read my fic and for leaving comments, those email notification are really what make you want to keep going and keep posting stories. Here is chapter 3 and we are in for a bit of an emotional ride with this story. As always, would love to hear your thoughts and comments. Enjoy**

 **Chapter 3:**

Gibbs and McGee were in the air for just over 5 hours, shorter than a commercial flight as the Army were not under the flight speed restrictions and scheduled landings times that govern public airlines. Gibbs looked to most as if he had spent most of that airtime asleep, but anyone who knew Gibbs, knew that there was no way he was sleeping with his SFA missing.

Gibbs and Tony had an … unusual relationship. To outsiders it would seem that Gibbs was tougher on Tony than other members of his team, and it would appear that Tony was borderline terrified of Gibbs but the truth was they both had a fondness, love even, for each other that was hard to define. Everyone knew there was a bond between them both, even if they couldn't work out what it was or how it formed. When they were alone together (which was _way_ more often than anybody would guess), Gibbs gruffness dissipated, and Tony's nervous babble and twitchiness vanished. They were relaxed and comfortable even sharing a few laughs and swapping stories about both their lives, and telling tales on other team members and colleagues. Neither of the really knew _why_ they both kept up the charade, or even who initiated it. It was just another one of those unspoken rules that defined their relationship. Other unspoken rules were; never repeat what is told to you to anyone else; never discuss their mothers; and never discuss their love lives unless it is in very broad, unemotional, and unspecific ways. Gibbs couldn't help but feel that he and Tony were both cut from the same cloth which helped them both understand each other in ways that other, less emotionally scarred people, couldn't. The thought of not having Tony there anymore was almost too much for Gibbs to handle and that is why he kept his eyes closed. Trying to keep his thoughts under control and not allow his imagination to run away with him to places he really didn't want it to go. No Tony will be fine. Gibbs would track him down, give him a head-slap he will _never_ forget … hell he might even hug DiNozzo next time they were alone, no matter how uncomfortable that would make him. Gibbs couldn't help but have a little smile at that thought.

Sargent Lewis of the Seattle PD, greeted Gibbs and McGee as they deplaned at McChord Air Field base Tuesday evening local time, and he took them straight to the precinct where they were holding the robbery suspect.

"We have questioned the suspect extensively but he is refusing to let us know where he got the weapon. I'm afraid this might just end up being a dead end I'm afraid." Sargent Lewis told them on the way.

"I'll get the information, don't worry," Gibbs assured him and McGee couldn't help but smile in the back seat. Yep, not many could avoid opening up their deepest darkest secrets under the intense blue gaze of Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

Sargent Lewis didn't look convinced.

At the precinct Gibbs and McGee were led to a small grey room use for interrogations. Sitting that room was a very large, very intimidating African American man who looked like he ate rocks for breakfast if all the metal teeth were any indication.

"This is Macky G, also know as George Mackson. Georgy-Boy, meet Special Agents Gibbs and McGee of NCIS."

"I told you I ain't talking, no matter how many skinny white dudes you drag in here!" he said as he crossed his behemoth arms across his vast expanse of a chest and sat back on his chair that squeaked in protest under his weight.

Gibbs sat across from him and was handed an evidence bag with a gun that he knew too well. Tony's back up piece, his .380 Walther PP, a gift from his Baltimore force when he made detective. "You were in possession of this gun when you were apprehended shortly after an armed robbery."

"Hey, like I said to Deputy Duffus there, I weren't at no robbery and I was holding that gun for a friend."

Gibbs smiled, not a kind smile, his interrogation smile. "I don't care about the robbery."

Macky G raised a pierced (and apparently infected) eyebrow. "You don't?"

"Nah!"

"What you want then grandpa?"

Gibbs let the dig at his grey hair go, "I want to know where you got this gun?" He slid Tony's gun across the table but received nothing but a snort as a response so Gibbs continued, "You see this gun here, it belongs to a Federal Agent. _My_ Federal Agent."

"Well he was careless for losing it wasn't he," Macky G sneered at him.

"He didn't just lose his gun, you see we have lost him."

"Well I can't help you with that dude, you gotta be more careful where you put your Agents down," he laughed and looked at the others in the room but no one else was laughing.

"You think this if funny George?" Gibbs asked, "Because I am about to wipe that smile off your face. You see, you are in possession of a gun registered to a missing Federal Agent. Now if we find out anything untoward has happened to this Federal Agent then you, George, simply be being in possession of his gun can be charged with accessory to murder."

This seemed to get Macky G's attention as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, "Hey look, I just knocked off a Seven Eleven, I don't know nothing about no untowarded Federal Agent. Man I don't even know what that _means!_ I just bought the gun from someone …"

"Who?"

Macky G shook his head, "I ain't gonna tell you that!"

Gibbs stood and made ready leave the room, "OK, you don't have to tell me. You can spend the next … how long is the sentence McGee?"

"Life."

"Yeah life behind bars." Gibbs stood to walk out.

"Hey wait, what you mean life, I aint don't life for something I didn't do!"

"THEN TELL ME WHERE YOU GOT THE GUN!" Gibbs slammed his hand down on the table and leant over so he was right in Macky G's face, "or I swear to God you will never see the light of day again."

"If I tell you then all this goes away right."

"I promise if you tell me where you got the gun I won't charge you for anything."

Macky G thought about it before deciding dealing with whoever gave him the gun was going to be easier than this psycho cop. "I got it from one of the Hasbro boys down in Tacoma."

"Which one," this from Sargent Lewis who had been standing behind Gibbs watching the interrogation unfold.

"The short one, you know the younger kid, Beenie… yeah that's it, I got it from Beenie!"

Gibbs looked up at Lewis, "You know him."

"Know of him, youngest son of a gang leader who control the area from Tacoma north up through to Bremerton and Silverdale. His Dad is a piece of work but from what I have heard little Beenie is a bit of a disappointment to the old man. Think he pretty much rolls on his own as Daddy-oh doesn't really want anything to do with him. Bit of a wimp apparently."

"How do I get to him?"

"I'll put in a call and get the Tacoma PD to pick him up for a chat. We can arrange for a car to drive you down there if you want."

"Yep that would be good. You can book him now Sargent," Gibbs started to walk out of the room.

"Hey wait, you said you wouldn't charge me," Macky G yelled at Gibbs.

He turned and looked at the suspect and said, "I'm not, he is!" and pointed to Sargent Lewis as he and McGee left the room to head to their next suspect.

It was well after eleven pm local time when Gibbs and McGee finally got to Tacoma and they were informed by a Detective Robins at the Tacoma PD station where the Gang Unit was situated that officers were out looking for Beenie but he hadn't been located as yet.

She told them to make themselves comfortable in the break room and were free to use the beds in the sleeper situated in the next room if they wanted to lay down. They both poured themselves a coffee and while McGee quite liked the smooth blend, Gibbs found it almost too hard to stomach. He couldn't help but think how much Tony would like this blend with his hazelnut creamer and half a pound of sugar. Another smile crept up unexpectedly on him.

As both of them were still on DC time neither of them was even slightly tired but when Beenie still hadn't been found by three am the both decided to take advantage of the beds in the next room and rest while they could. Both were still hopeful that they would talk to Beenie, find out where Tony was, maybe seek some medical attention if he needed it and be on the way back to Washington by tomorrow evening. But Gibbs knew there was a _big_ difference between hope and reality and by nine am, reality hit them square in the jaw.

They were both woken just before eight and told Beenie was here and ready to be questioned. They took a moment to neaten themselves and followed a uniformed officer to the interrogation room.

Once again were met by Detective Robins, who gave them a bit of background on Beenie and his associates. His real name was Luke Hasbro and it turns out Beenie didn't really have much to do with his father's crew and he and two other low level thugs usually hung out together, got picked up for very low level crimes such as assault and snatch and grabs and a few drug and firearm violations. Their most common MO was to come up behind someone give them a whack in the head and then snatch what they can and run off while the victim was still trying to stop their head from spinning.

Armed with this information Gibbs and McGee walked in to the room. Unlike Macky G with his size and self-confident attitude, Beenie was a small, nervous, white kid, maybe 15 or 16, who reminded Gibbs of an armadillo trying to curl in on himself and make himself as small as possible. He had some sort of facial hair that frankly looked like a teenager trying to grow out his first spray of whiskers, which he supposed was exactly what it was. Instead of having the usual effect of making someone look rougher, this 'beard', for want of a better word, made him look even younger and softer.

"Beenie," Gibbs said, a little louder than necessary and was happy with the little jump from the boy across the room.

"Y-y-yeah, that's me. Wh-wh-what's going on? Why-why-why am I here?"

Gibbs nodded to McGee who pulled up a photo of Tony on his phone and slid it over to Beenie to look at. "You recognise this man?"

Beenie's eyes darted quickly from the phone to Gibbs, then McGee, and then back to the phone before landing on his hands that were nervously twitching in his lap, "Nup, never seen him."

Just like with Macky G, Gibbs slammed down his hand on the table and leant in to Beenie who actually slunk lower in his chair if that was even possible. Gibbs didn't miss the acrid smell of some urine that slipped out. "LIAR! Where is he!"

"I-I-I d-d-don't n-n-n-know!"

Gibbs sat down and took a different approach now. He lowered his voice and dropped his head forward. He was going into good cop mode. "You do know don't you Beenie?" Beenie shook his head as his eyes darted around the room. Gibbs could see a slight quiver start in his lower lip and was pretty sure there was a glint of a tear in his eyes. "Come on Beenie, I know you do. Tell me what happened so we can find him and help him if he needs it." This time the tears in the eyes were unmistakable. Gibbs gut did a flip that he didn't like. Gibbs was sure Beenie was about to tell them, and he was just as sure he wasn't going to like what he heard. "You tell me what happened Beenie and I promise I will do everything I can to make this go easy for you."

Beenie dropped his gaze again and quietly said, so quietly in fact that everyone except Gibbs missed it, "We didn't mean to."

Once again, his gut clenched, "Didn't mean to what?"

Beenie looked up and tears were freely flowing down his cheeks, "Kill him."

Both Gibbs and McGee felt their blood turn to ice at these words. Gibbs could feel McGee's eyes on him but he refused to look, refused to break eye contact with Beenie. "Tell me what happened."

Beenie wiped roughly at the tears with his sleeve and started to talk, "It was Friday night and me and my guys wanted to party over the weekend and we was looking for some money to buy some stuff … you know weed or booze or something… and we saw this guy up ahead looking down at his phone, so we thought we could hit him, you know, take his phone real quick and take off. So Junk… he was with me, Junk and Randy… So Junk, he ran up behind him and punched him in the head like he always do and this guy, he fell but he hit his head as he fell, you know on the side of the stairs that go up, the big cement sides. Anyway, he hit his head and then kept falling and just lay there on the ground with blood coming out his head. So Randy says, ' _great he's out cold, we can clean him out,'_ so we start going through his pockets and stuff, and I see his badge and gun and then I say, _'oh shit, this guy is a cop'._ Just then he started twitching … you know, like in the movies, his whole body was like…" Beenie started miming what Gibbs could only assume were convulsions, "and he did that for ages, I mean it felt like ages but maybe forty or fifty seconds or so then he stopped. Junk leant over to see if he was breathing but he weren't. He was dead so Randy and I started to panic, I mean this guy was a cop and we had just killed him, so Junk told us to take everything off him, you know his gun and wallet and badge and all that shit, then we picked him up and carried him over to the alley and threw him in a dumpster in there. After that we just … you know, ran. I still had one of his guns and his phone, so I threw the phone as I ran, it was all smashed up anyway and Junk and Randy took off the other way with his other stuff and I haven't seen them since."

Gibbs and McGee sat silently as the realisation of what Beenie had told them sunk in. Tony was dead and his body dumped in a bin.

Gibbs cleared his throat and slid a pen and paper across the table to Beenie. Between clenched teeth Gibbs said, "Write down where this happened, the names and address of who you were with and then on the next page you will write down _exactly_ what you just told me, miss out _nothing_ and sign it. Luke Hasbro, I also have to inform you that you are under arrest for the murder of a United States Federal Agent." Gibbs continued to tell Beenie his rights as Beenie wrote out the information and cried rivers of tears and snot. Gibbs wanted to kill him so as soon as he could he marched out of the room allowing Tacoma PD to continue with the supervision of the prisoner.

As soon as they were out of the room McGee slumped against the wall and slid down to the floor, to shocked to speak. Gibbs didn't stop, he couldn't he had to get out of here, NOW! He strode through the police station and out to the street he turned and turned again until he found himself in a deserted alley and then he allowed the cracks to show. He saw a garbage bin and picked it up and hurled it at the wall with a guttural scream. It wasn't enough, but it was enough for now. He couldn't allow himself to get carried away by his grief, he had to find that dumpster and bring Tony home.

He went back to the precinct and found McGee in the same spot, still obviously in shock. He looked down at Tim and hand out his hand to pull him up. "Pull it together Tim, we have a crime scene to process, and a friend to find."


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: How's this?**

 **Chapter 4:**

Detective Robins had made arrangements for the Silverdale PD to have the crime scene taped off as soon as Beenie had supplied the address and had informed the officers that no one was to enter the scene before NCIS arrived.

On the way to the scene, Gibbs called the Director to give him an update and Vance confirmed he would inform the other members of the team of the devastating news. Gibbs felt guilty for not talking to Ducky and Abby personally, but to be honest he wasn't sure he would have been able to. He barely held it together when he told Vance. The Director also arranged for Agents Cameron and O'Malley of the Northwest office to assist at the crime scene but to do nothing until Gibbs arrived.

By the time Gibbs and McGee arrived at the site, there was yellow crime scene tape covering a fair portion of the footpath and closing off the nearby alley in both directions. There were also two agents dressed in their NCIS jackets and caps waiting outside the tape. Gibbs walked up to them both, "You Cameron and O'Malley?"

Liam O'Malley answered for them both, "Yes sir we are." He was about to say something else when Gibbs held up his hand and shook his head.

"Agent McGee and I are going to walk through first and then I will let you know what I need you to do."

They both nodded, "Yes sir."

"Don't call me sir," and Gibbs lifted the nearby tape and he and McGee entered the crime scene… _Tony's_ crime scene. The both looked around and noted a pool of blood at the bottom of a small set of stairs leading up to the entry of a building, thankfully, this last weekend had been clear and rain free, a rarity for this part of the US. On each side of the stairs was a concrete wall that went from the top of the stairs to the bottom and then turned and became the front fence of the property. It stood approximately two and a half to three feet tall and on the right side, just at the corner was a smear of blood and a couple of fine brown hairs. They continued on towards the alley, noting a blood trail from the stairs all the way to the alley. They turned the corner and there, about ten yards away was a big industrial dumpster. Again, the trail of blood led them all the way to it. Both men stopped in front of bin and paused to ready themselves for what they would find.

Gibbs turned to McGee, "Ready?"

McGee nodded even though he knew there was no way he could ever be ready to see Tony this way. They stepped forward and each man grabbed a side of the bin lid and lifted it to find … nothing. The only thing in the bin was a few bags of garbage and a couple of boxes. Not even enough to cover the bottom of the bin. They both looked at each other. McGee finally voicing what they both knew, "The garbage has been collected. He's gone." Their hearts sank in their chests.

Gibbs kicked the bin making McGee jump in surprise. He rarely saw Gibbs lose control like that, hell, he rarely saw any emotion at all. "Find out when it was picked up … Now McGee."

"On it Boss," McGee walked away from Gibbs for a moment while he got onto the sanitation department find out when the bin was cleared.

When Gibbs was once again in control, he came out of the alley and walked towards the two agents who had silently started processing the stairs now that Gibbs and McGee had inspected it. Gibbs was kind of proud of that. Tony had spoken to Gibbs about the team and said that because their usual SSA was so controlling, they didn't do anything without his say so it had taken Tony a bit of time to encourage them to take the initiative and do what needed to be done without being told to do it. Looked like he had taught them well. He also knew that O'Malley was very good at the job, details were important to him; and that Cameron, who was also very good at her job, was kind of getting over all the death and gore. Gibbs chose her to go and knock on doors and see if anyone in the neighbourhood had seen or heard anything.

McGee came back and filled Gibbs in, "They are going to contact the subcontractors who work this area and get back to me when they know when it was collected, and where it was taken. She said it may take several hours but I expressed to her how important this is and she assured me she will call me the minute she knows."

Gibbs nodded his head and McGee spoke again, "Judging by the little amount in the bin it looks like it may only have been collected yesterday which would mean … well you know what that means."

Gibbs did know what it meant. It meant there would be less garbage to dig through if it was only collected yesterday rather than Monday or over the weekend. Less rotting junk to cover Tony's lifeless body and therefore a greater chance of find it, but still no guarantee. Gibbs struggled to keep images of Tony's decaying body buried in trash out of his mind, he had to focus. Had to process the scene. They knew what happened so they just had to confirm Beenie's story was accurate. They both joined the other two agents and got to work.

They worked silently, speaking only when necessary. Every square inch of the crime and every spec of evidence was photographed from every possible angle. Blood and hair samples were collected, as were cigarette butts and a half drunk bottle of Coke in the gutter. They processed both inside and out of the bin searching for fingerprints and taking samples of blood found in the bin for DNA confirmation. The processed the alley from one end to the other finding only a small smear of blood on the wall leading away from the bin, probably from one of the boys fleeing the scene, and again samples were taken for DNA comparison.

Gibbs arranged for all the evidence to be sent to Abby in DC rather than to the local lab because Tony had told Gibbs that while Diggs was good, he was no Abby. This case _needed_ an Abby.

It was mid afternoon by the time they finished processing the scene. Cameron had only found one witness who said they saw some kids hanging around the dumpster but saw them come back out, split up and run away and didn't think anything more about it. But still, that at least was enough to confirm Beenie's story. She held up an evidence bag containing a smashed iPhone, which was presumed to be Tony's that Beenie threw away when he ran. She had also managed to track down some CCTV footage from the convenience store down the road, which showed the crime scene at a distance, but it was something at least.

Just as they were packing away their gear, McGee's phone rang. He spoke for a few minutes, took down a few notes before hanging up. "What have you got McGee?" Gibbs asked.

"We were right, the bin was cleared yesterday somewhere between eleven in the morning and one in the afternoon. The driver couldn't be more accurate than that because he said his run takes seven to eight hours and he does this run so often he really doesn't pay much attention to where he is at any specific time. He just knows this one is the third last bin before his lunch break. They also contacted the local refuse station and they know which station number that company used and they are stopping all deliveries there and roping off the area. She did say it was a big area though."

Gibbs nodded, "Well best we get over there and get started then."

It was after three in the afternoon by the time the four agents arrived and where shown the area that the garbage from the truck was deposited. McGee's jaw dropped at the shear size of the area. It wasn't a big area, if was _enormous._ The area was at least two acres and they were told proudly by an overly enthusiastic sanitation work, that some stations could be up to ten yards deep. This one he estimated to be only about three yards deep as it had only been in use for four weeks. All this garbage in only _four weeks!_ How were they ever going to find their friend in … this?

The overly enthusiastic sanitation worker, his name was Garth by the way, also told them, "So the bulldozers worked a bit yesterday afternoon but haven't worked this station today, so whatever you are looking for is most likely going to be here towards the front, or possibly off toward the left there. That is the area I saw Brian moving it around to yesterday before buckets down."

"And how many trucks dumped here before you closed the station down?" Gibbs asked Garth, the overly enthusiastic sanitation worker.

"Aw geez, let me check the records," and Garth pulled out an iPad and looked up something, "there was one truck after the one you are looking for, then there were five trucks scheduled to dump here today and they can dump three or four times each depending on the size of their area, but I can't tell you how many actually dumped before I shut it down at two twenty-three. I wont know that until those records upload overnight."

Gibbs nodded and McGee had to hand it to Garth the overly enthusiastic sanitation worker, he was very organised and obviously has some kick-arse tech support. Who knew garbage dumping was so technological. At least that was working in their favour. The fact that there could be up to twenty loads of garbage on top of the one with Tony, was not. It would be easier to find a needle in a haystack … literally!

"I think we are going to need some help Agent Gibbs," O'Malley said from beside McGee, giving voice to his own internal musings.

Gibbs sighed and reached for his phone, "Yeah, we sure are."

An hour later Gibbs had manage to rally up some help with the local volunteer emergency services group, and also the police academy jumping at the chance to allow it's cadets some real life forensic work. However, once Gibbs informed them what they weren't searching for a what, but a who, and that that who just happened to be a member of a law enforcement agency, the mood of the cadets changed from excited to serious. Local, state and federal boundaries were forgotten when it came to something like this. As far as everyone at the scene was concerned, they were looking for one of their own.

Armed with a list of names of the businesses that used the bin from the alley, everyone started working in a grid pattern, looking for anything from those places that could indicate where Tony's remains might be. The search was painfully slow.

Industrial lights were bought in to light up the refuse station to allow the search to continue well into the night. Gibbs called it a night at midnight and by that stage there were three different areas located that had garbage from the stores on the list. It would appear that the bulldozer _had_ managed to move around the truckload they wanted.

The search continued again at six the next morning and again by the end of the next day, there was still no sign of Tony's body and still an incredibly large area to search.

Five more days the search continued on before Vance finally had to pull the plug and tell Gibbs the search was over.

McGee was beside Gibbs when he received the call they both knew was coming. He heard the crack in Gibbs voice when he said, "But we haven't found him yet Leon."

There was silence as Vance spoke on the other side of the phone.

"I have to find him, I can't leave him here. I need more time, it's only been a week." Again a long silence as Vance once again spoke and Gibbs listened, occasionally nodding and then, finally, he dropped his head, pinched the bridge of his nose and simply said, "I know," and hung up.

Gibbs finally looked up, McGee couldn't help the tears that started to well in his eyes. Gibbs went to walk past him, then placed his hand on his shoulder, "It's time to go home Tim."


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Thanks to some feedback I have changed a bit of this chapter in relation to the fingerprint search. Unfortunately, I had some pretty major flaws in the details (sadly I am not in law enforcement, or even the US for that matter) so thanks to notes from this particular reviewer, I have altered on paragraph slightly and hopefully it will ring more true.**

 **Chapter 5:**

Claire Douglas clocked in for her nursing shift at the University of Washington Medical Centre and prepared to make her rounds. She worked in the Neurology department in the ICU and could honestly say that she loved her job. Many of the nurses mumbled and grumbled about their work, but Claire had always felt a drawing towards the field of nursing. She probably could have become a doctor, lord knows she had the brains for it, but there was something about nursing that she just loved and that love hadn't waned in the thirty years she had been doing it.

She was the nurse in charge and there were five patients in her care today. In the first room there was the elderly gentleman who had undergone experimental treatment for an Alzheimer's study, who was constantly visited by his wife, children and grandchildren. Next to him was little Davey, a twelve year old who just had a brain tumour removed from his frontal lobe and thankfully the tumour was benign and he was expected to make a full recovery and head home in the next day or two with his mom and dad. Then there was Gloria, a fifty-six year old woman who inexplicably lost consciousness yesterday. Her husband had not moved from her side since she was admitted. Hopefully the tests today will give him an idea of just what was going on. The room next to Gloria was vacant and then there was Maria, a single mother of two who was involved in a head on collision on her way home from work three days ago. Claire knew it was only a matter of time before her loving family had to make the decision to turn off her life support.

Then there was her favourite, John. His name wasn't John of course, or maybe it was. No one knew. At the moment he was John Doe 1526, indicating he was the twenty-sixth unidentified person to be admitted to the hospital this year. Most of the John Doe's were identified shortly after, usually no more than a couple of days, but this man was still a John Doe. John had arrived over two weeks ago, with no identification, flown in from Harrison Medical Centre in Silverdale. They emergency department there had managed to barely stabilize him before air lifting him here, a larger hospital more capable of handling his injuries. Claire wasn't sure why she was so fond of John. Maybe it was because he was alone with no loved ones surrounding him like the other patients had. Maybe it was something more basic, like the fact that he was an incredibly attractive man (best she not tell her husband that part). But mostly she thought it was because he was a mystery. Not a medical mystery. That was pretty straightforward; blunt for trauma to the left temporal area of his head causing a fractured skull and internal bleeding requiring an emergency craniotomy to relieve the pressure.

The mystery lay in the fact that here was a handsome, healthy and obviously fit man who clearly looks after himself, and yet the police had been unable to work out who he was. They had checked missing persons but no one matching his description had been reported missing. They even extended the search to nationwide and they thought they worked it out when they got a hit on a missing casino worker from Las Vegas. Sadly, after being advised by the family that he had a burn scare on the left side of his abdomen, they realised that the unscarred John wasn't their man. The police had run his prints through AFIS but the detective in charge of the case had been overloaded with many other cases including the hunt for a missing three year old child, so John's case was not a priority. Claire thought that maybe he was a foreigner; maybe a tourist who no one realised was missing yet. Hopefully the detective would be able to get back onto John's case soon, he may not be a priority to them, but he was a priority to someone.

Claire walked into her favourite patients room and did what she had done every time she started a new shift. She went over his obs, making sure there was no spike in his temperature indicating a possible infection, check blood pressure, checked his pupils were reactive to light, made sure his meds were up to date and wrote up her findings in his chart. She then sat down beside him and held his hand, "Hi John it's me, Claire. Is today the day you are going to wake up for me?" She continued to hold his hand, stoking the back of it hoping the touch would awaken him. "Come on, how about you open those pretty eyes of yours hey? We really need to find out who you are and get you home, someone must be missing you by now. The police are kind of at a stand still until you can tell them your name. Want to wake up and tell me your name?" She watched him continue sleeping, listened to his strong and regular breathing, watching his chest rise and fall with each one. He had been in an induced coma for well over a week, giving his brain a chance to heal but his sedation had been reduced for seven days now and the fact he wasn't waking up was starting to become a concern. And today didn't look like anything was going to change. She stood and patted his hand, "Well if you do decided to wake up, you just give me a yell and I will come running ok? I'll check in on you again later John."

She was just leaving the room to return to her desk when she heard something, it was very quiet but she was sure it was a moan. Claire turned and looked back at her patient, "Was that you John?" There was no response but just as she was about to turn again she saw a slight shift of his head. Returning to his bedside she could see his eyes moving under his lids and heard another soft moan escape his lips. "Well it's about time!" She reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone, dialling the number of Dr Petersen who had been in charge of his case. When he answered she simply said, "John's waking."

"I'm on my way."


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: So it appears fan may have had a few technical difficulties the last couple of days. Now I am behind again with my target of posting all before 22nd September. Oh well there may be another bonus chapter soon. Thank you to all who are favouriting and following this story and a big special thank you to all who are leaving reviews, comments, and even recipes for some awesome cocktails ;-). So here is chapter 6. I hope you like it.**

 **Chapter 6:**

It took a while for the man to fully wake up and when he did it took him another little while to realise he was in hospital and these people surrounding him and poking and prodding him were obviously doctors and nurses. Slowly the world came into focus and he was actually capable of using the spoken word, "Water?"

A blonde nurse handed him a plastic cup with a straw, probably a ten or more years older than himself. She helped him manoeuvre the straw into a position that allowed him to drink without moving his head, which currently felt too damn heavy to move. "Not too much, your body isn't used to having anything in the stomach at the moment," she said.

What the hell had happened to him? A man came into his view, wearing a white coat with a stethoscope slung around his neck, light blue business shirt and a striped yellow and blue tie, the universal uniform of a doctor. It was so cliché as to be laughable if he didn't feel like vomiting instead. "Glad to see you finally awake, how are you feeling?"

The man wanted to say something smart and witty, but instead all he could managed was, "not good."

"Well that is understandable, you got quite a hit to the head. Do you remember how you got here?"

The man made an effort (thought honestly not a really big effort) to remember but obviously using his neurons was beyond his current capabilities, "No." So was sentence formation apparently.

"That's OK. I do need to ask you something and I really need to you help me out here OK?"

The man nodded but regretted the action when he could hear and feel the blood pounding in he ears and feel his brain sloshing from one side to the other with the minimal movement. He let a moan escape his lips.

"Just one more question and we will give you something for the pain. Can you tell me your name?"

Of course he could it was …. A frown crossed his handsome features. This is ridiculous of course he knows his own name … didn't he?

The nurse and doctor could see the look of panic cross their patient's face as he obviously was struggling to recall the most basic item of identity. The doctor laid his hand on the man's shoulder, "It's ok, try not to worry about it. Like I say you got quite a knock to the head and you have just woken up. I think we will leave it at that for now and give you something for the pain. I will come back in a few hours and hopefully you will be able to remember some more then, OK?"

"Ok," the man couldn't help but notice the look that had passed between the two people above him. He knew the fact he didn't know his name was not a good sign. They walked away and the doctor and nurse held a private whispered conversation before they both walked out of his room. The nurse returned a few seconds later and returned to his bedside. She started to prepare a needle that she then emptied into his IV line that was connected to his right arm near the elbow. "What's happened to me?" he asked her.

She sat in the chair beside his bed and patted his hand reassuringly, "Now don't go worrying about that just now, just know you are in hospital and we are taking really good care of you ok?" The man felt the pain in his head start to recede, as was the ability to keep his eyes open. "You feel free to close your eyes again, and we will chat later OK?"

"OK. What is your name?"

"It's Claire, sweety." She handed him his call button, "So when you need me you just hit this button and I will come running OK?"

"O…" and he drifted off to sleep.

When he awoke again he was alone in his room and his head felt lighter and less muddy than it had last time. However, when he went searching for his name, it once again was out of reach. How could he not know his own name? He knew other things about himself, he was six-foot-two, had brown hair, greeny-gray eyes, and he was … ok so he didn't know _exactly_ how old he was but he knew he was well into his forties, but not that close to fifty.

Where was he? Again he reached into his damaged mind, but once again it came up blank. He also couldn't come up with any names of people he knew, no faces came to him. He didn't know if he was single or had a family… ' _do I have kids?'_ He could feel himself start to panic as the realisation hit him that he had no memories prior to waking up in the hospital. He hit his call button, needing to tell someone what was happening. He needed someone to fix him. She started lifting himself off the bed, needing to find someone when Claire came running into the room.

"Hey now, don't you go getting out of bed …"

He interrupted her, "I don't remember anything?"

"Ok, well you just lay back down and we will talk about it ok."

"You don't understand… I don't remember _anything!_ I don't know who I am, where I am, I don't remember anyone I might know, I don't know any names…" his voice was starting to rise as was his panic.

Claire sat on his bed side and pulled him in for a hug, giving him comfort and trying to calm him down, while he tried to come to terms with what was happening, "Shhh, shhh. It's OK. I know it is scary but we are going to do everything we can to help you out OK." She continued to hold him close and stroke his hair while he cried on her shoulder. She could feel him shaking in fear of the unknown, which to him was pretty much everything at the moment.

After several minutes he finally calmed down and the tears slowed. "That's better. Ok, so I am going to call Dr Petersen and get him down here and we will see what he has to say OK."

The man nodded and wiped away his tears. He felt embarrassed about crying in front of Claire, somehow he felt that was something he didn't do; cry in front of people. He didn't know how he knew that, but he did. Maybe that was a good sign?

Claire sat with him until Dr Petersen arrived and he sat in the chair beside his bed, while Claire remained perched on his bed holding onto his hand. Her heart was breaking for this man. She had seen people wake up and not remember things, she was in neurology after all, but to have complete amnesia was rare indeed.

One patient she had early in her career had such bad damage that she had lost, not only all her memories, but also everything she had ever learnt; how to talk, how to walk, how to use cutlery, every basic function you take for granted was completely lost to her. She had been like a new-born baby and it had taken her over a year before she was able to leave the hospital but she was never what Claire would consider fixed. She couldn't retain any new memories, and had no old memories. Last she heard she was still in a high care facility.

"So Claire says you can't remember anything, is that right?"

The man nodded, "I can't remember anything other than waking up here before. It's blank."

"OK, can you tell me what year it is?"

"Two thousand and … I want to say fifteen?"

"Yep that's right." He sighed in relief. That was something at least Dr Petersen started to take down some notes, "Can you tell me the month?"

"March?"

"Close, April. How about where you are?"

"Washington."

"Yep, can you tell me the city?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well Washington is the State, can you tell me what city you are in?"

He thought for a moment, he knew Washington, that had come to him instantly but what city? He finally shook his head, "No."

"Ok, how about the night you were bought in? Do you remember anything about that?"

The man thought, but came up as a blank. There was nothing there. He shook his head and the doctor continued taking notes.

"OK, what is the first thing you do remember?"

"Waking up before."

"Any specifics?"

"Yeah, you and Claire were there and my head was really sore. I had a drink of water and then you asked my name which I didn't know. You both left and Claire came back in and put something in my IV and I fell asleep.

"Excellent. Well retaining new memories doesn't seem to be an issue. That's a good sign."

"So how about yourself? Is there anything you can tell me about you?"

"OK, I'm male, six-foot-two, mid forties but not exactly sure what my age is … umm" he thought some more, trying to recall anything about himself, "greeny-grey eyes, brown hair." He stopped there unable to recall anything less basic. "That's about it I guess."

"Any scars?"

"One under my chin and on my leg … not sure about anything else."

"How did you get them?"

Claire could see him thinking about it, "Anything at all you might know about it?"

"The one on the chin I got when I was really young, six or seven maybe, but I have _no_ idea what I did. Same with the leg one, I was late teens, early twenties and it is a sport injury but I don't know what sport, what happened, how it happened… nothing."

"Anything else, what you did for a living, what sort of house you live in?"

Once again, answers to these questions were lost. Tears once again welled up but he managed to hold them back before answering. "No, nothing else. Please can you tell me what happened to me?"

Dr Petersen sat back and crossed his legs and explained to the man how he came to be here, "You arrived here at three am on the morning of Saturday 28th March. You were air lifted by helicopter from Harrison Medical Centre in Silverdale. Could that be the town you are from?"

He shook his head, "Doesn't sound familiar."

"Anyway, you were found unconscious in the street by someone on their way home from dinner or something, so they called an ambulance and you were taken to Harrison. You had a seizure en-route and they managed to stabilize you and then arranged the airlift to here. When you arrived you had another seizure after which you stopped breathing, we bagged you until you once again started breathing on your own approximately a minute later. You were immediately placed on anti seizure medication, which you are still on today. We sent you off for a scan and we found a bleed on your brain on the left side of your frontal lobe just here," he indicated a space on his own head just approximately two inches above his ear and just inside his hairline.

The man lifted his own hand and felt the same spot the doctor pointed too but it was covered with dressings.

"We were given an emergency craniotomy where we removed a small portion of your skull, drained the blood and also removed a blood clot. We inserted a drain and replaced the portion of skill and restitched your wound and you were placed in an induced coma for ten days to try and allow the swelling in your brain to reduce and allow you to heal. The drain was removed and we reduced the sedation seven days ago and you woke up earlier today."

He sat silently on his bed for a moment, trying to take in all the information provided, trying to remember anything about that night. Finally he asked what he needed to know, "Will I get my memory back?"

Dr Petersen leaned forward and rested his hand on the mans leg, "At this stage, I can't give you a definitive answer to that. I will need to run some tests over the next couple of day, some scans, memory tests, that sort of thing and we will have a better idea once those have been completed. If you get any sort of memory flash, or things start to come back to you, please call a nurse to get me straight away, OK."

"Yep, got it."

The doctor stood and said, "So tomorrow we will get these tests underway and see if we can get some answers for you OK. Good night."

"Goodnight."

Claire was still sitting beside him. "You OK?" she asked.

"I'm not sure, it's a lot to take in. Good thing I have all the extra room now though."

She laughed. At least he still had a sense of humour. "Well I will let you rest up. Call me if you need anything John."

"John?"

"Oops, sorry that slipped out. I have been calling you John … as in John Doe. Standard procedure for unidentified persons."

"Yeah I know."

"How do you know?"

He thought for a minute. "No idea."

"Are you happy for me to keep calling you John?" She saw him wrinkle his nose. "So that's a no. Well, what would you like me to call you? Is there a name that comes to mind?"

He thought for a moment then said, "James."

"James. Do you think that might be your name?"

Again, a moment of thought, "No I don't think so, but it's a name that makes me feel … I don't know… happy? Safe? I don't know."

"Well, I think we can call you James if that is what you want."

"Yeah, I don't really like John."

"Ok, James it is then. Try and get some rest tonight OK. I have finished my shift and I think Lisa is on tonight but I will be back in the morning. Sleep well James."


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: Here is the next chapter. I have made a slight amendment to Chapter 5 because I had some facts wrong and it wasn't reading true to some people, so I have made the necessary changes to make it more believable (hopefully). Anyway, here is the next chapter and I hope you enjoy it.**

 **Chapter 7:**

The next morning, James was moved out of the ICU and the following week consisted of a battery of tests, there was a CAT scan, MRI, blood tests, memory test, mental cognitive tests and therapy sessions a psychiatrist to ensure the issue wasn't a mental one rather than a result of the trauma. He also had his anti seizure medications reduced but shortly after taking him off them completely he had another seizure and he was placed on them again but at a lower dosage.

During all of this, Claire the ICU nurse, would come down and visit him during her breaks and usually drop in after her shift. He may no longer be in her charge but she still had to make sure he wasn't left completely alone.

It was during one of her visits that Dr Petersen came by to give James his final diagnosis.

"How are you feeling now James?" he asked upon entering his room.

"Better, my headaches are not as severe and I am pretty much walking around now without any dizziness or nausea."

"Good, and has there been any improvement with your memory, any flashes, names come to you?"

James shook his head. "No. I smelt something the other day which kind of made me feel a bit … I don't know … weird but I didn't actually remember anything."

"So it was more of an emotional reaction rather than a memory."

"Yeah."

"OK. Well after running all the tests and conferring with Dr Hartland, the psychiatrist you spoke to, we can confirm that you are not faking it."

"I was kind of waiting to find out something I didn't already know Doc," James responded with a raised eyebrow and a scowl.

"So, that leaves us with the expected diagnoses of TBI which is Traumatic Brain Injury, and consequential Retrograde Amnesia."

Something flashed in his head, he had been told about Retrograde Amnesia before but the memory was just out of reach. Had he had it? Or did someone he know have it?

"What just happened then James, you left us for a second. Did you remember something?"

"Not really, just kind of flashed in my mind that I knew about the Retrograde Amnesia but I just don't remember how I know of who might have been involved. Memories can come back with that though, can't it."

Dr Petersen paused before answering, "It can, _but_ recovery from retrograde Amnesia depends on many factors, how bad was the injury, how long were you unconscious, were seizures involved, amount of memory recalled immediately upon waking and, probably most importantly, have people and places familiar to you to help you jog those memories lose." He watched James' face as he took all of this information in. "In your particular case, we don't know what caused your injury, we don't have any idea how long you were unconscious before you were found, you were in an induced coma for over a week, but it then took you _another_ week before you woke up after we took you off the sedation. Add to that the seizures you had both with us, and the unknown factor of how many you had before that, your lack of being able to recall any aspect of your life prior to waking …"

"I get it. I'm screwed." James laid his head back on the headboard as the realization that he may never recall his memories hit him full force.

Dr Petersen sighed, he felt bad for James he really did, "Look, I'm not saying that you will never get any memories back, but I doubt very much that you will recall much, _and_ I can't see you recalling _any_ unless we can work out who the hell you are and where you come from."

"But how come I know thing about myself, like I know I can drive a car, I know I can play piano. How do I know that stuff?"

"The brain is a very complicated organ and to be honest, we know very little about it and how it works. What we do know is that once you _learn_ something, that information is stored in a different part of your brain than the memory of the lesson. You may be able to drive a car, which is the learnt action, but you won't remember who taught you which is the memory. Also, you may find yourself doing something subconsciously that you wouldn't be able to do if you sat down and actually put conscious thought into it."

"So basically if I try to remember how to do something I probably couldn't do it, but if I just do it without thinking about it I probably can."

"Precisely, and again, that sort of thing can be improved by having familiar stimuli around you, which currently …"

"I don't have," James finished for him.

Dr Petersen looked over at Claire before starting again, "There's more."

James looked up and didn't like the look on Dr Petersen's face, "Whhaaatttt?"

"You're ready to be released."

James knew this kind of news was usually greeted with excitement and good cheer, but everyone in that room knew what that meant. "But I don't have anywhere to go!" James could feel panic starting to set in. "I don't know anyone, I don't _have_ anything. I don't even have a cent to my name."

"I understand James, I do, but my hands are tied. As it is your bill is being covered by the hospital until such time as we can work out who you are, and if you do ever work that out, if you don't have enough insurance to cover this …"

"But what am I going to do?"

"Look, I can probably get you another couple of days here, I believe your temperature is about to spike, don't you think Claire."

"Most definitely, I think I will take it now and put it in your chart," Claire, who had remained silent until now jumped up and grabbed the chart at the end of the bed writing something in it. "I have put a note here that your obs can only be performed by Dr Petersen or myself as you feel uncomfortable with other doing it. How does that sound."

"Like I will piss of the other nurses. So you get me a couple of days then what?"

"It gives you time to work it out. There are options, there are shelters, or we might be able to get you into a hospice because of your condition."

"We will work something out James, I promise," Claire assured him.

"I wish there was more I could do for you James, but," he shrugged indicating that medically there was nothing more that could be done. "I'll see you before you leave," and with that he left James and Claire alone.

James looked at Claire, both of them not sure what to say. What could they say.

Claire finally broke the silence. "Well we have a couple of days to sort this out. I have an idea but I need to talk it over with someone first. I keep chasing the police but the detective keeps brushing me off. I know he is busy but ... Anyway, in the meantime, I think I have an idea about how to find out who you are. "

James perked up at that, "You do?"

"Now don't get excited because to be honest this is a long shot but I think it may be worth trying."

"I'll try anything, what is it."

"Well the other day I was going through my Facebook feed, do you know what Facebook is?"

"Yeah, of course!" Claire quirked an eyebrow at him, "No I don't know how I know I just know that I know what it is … please continue."

"Well, as I was saying, I am on a page that is a Lost Pet Register and I saw the other day a one of the dogs was found the other day because it's picture was posted and shared all around the area. I thought we could do that with you."

"You want to put me on the Lost Pet Register?"

"No, don't be ridiculous. I want to take a photo of you, and post it with an explanation of what your story is and get all of my Facebook friends to share it, and hopefully their friends will share it, and so on and so forth."

"And you think that might work?"

"Like I say, it's a long shot. But social media is being used for everything theses days. I even read a story last year that on of the federal agencies, not the FBI another one, used Twitter to track down a plane that was going to blow up a ship or something."

"Really? And that worked?"

"Apparently, hell if it's good enough for the feds it's good enough for us. Want to give it a try?"

"I've got nothing to lose I suppose. But how are you going to be able to tell if you are contacted by someone I know or someone who is having a joke?"

"Well, you have a few scars, surely someone who knows you would know about at least one of them? And, before I let them take you anywhere, they will need to produce some sort of photographic proof that they know you. You game?"

James started to feel a little excited about the idea. Sure it probably wouldn't pan out and if it did it may take months but at least it is something. "Yep, do it."

Claire smiled, pulled out her iPad, and held it up in front of her face and James heard a computerised click indicating that the photo had been taken. "Should I have smiled?"

"Well you kind of are, it's a little one, besides, no one will believe the story if you have a huge toothy grin now would they."

"True, so what are you going to say?"

Claire was typing away for a while before she finally answered him, "Ok how does this sound," and she handed James the iPad to read.

 _PLEASE HELP ME IDENTIFY THIS MAN_

 _He was admitted to Washington University Medical Centre, in Seattle during the early hours of Saturday March 28, 2015 with extensive head injuries. Upon waking from a coma he has no memory of who he is or where he is from. To date the police have been unable to identify him though missing persons records, and we are still waiting to hear about fingerprints. We need to locate family, friends or loved ones to help him recover his memories. Someone must be missing this man! He is kind, sweet, well spoken and he deserves to be back home wherever that is. If you recognise this man, please contact me immediately on 425 555 6843, Claire._

 _PLEASE SHARE THIS POST WITH ALL OF YOUR FRIENDS AND ENCOURAGE THEM TO SHARE AS WELL._

Attached to the post was the photo she had just taken. He handed it back. "Looks good I guess."

"So, should I post it?"

"Yep, do it. It's the best chance I have, which is kind of sad."

She pressed the iPad and looked up. "Done."

Again they sat in silence, not expecting anything to happen, yet hoping desperately this would race around the world at warp speed and he would be identified within hours. Claire knew she had to leave as it was getting late, and they would both go crazy if they sat there waiting against all hope that something miraculous would happen. "Well, it's getting late and I had better get home before my husband reports _me_ as a missing person."

"At least you have someone to report you, I don't apparently."

"I am sure that there is a reason you haven't been reported and when someone sees your pretty face on Facebook, we will know that reason."

"I hope so."

Claire leant in and gave James a small kiss on the forehead as she did every time before leaving for the night.


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: Here is the next chapter. For those of you who missed it, I have amended a paragraph in Chapter 5 re the fingerprints so if you haven't re read that bit, you might want to have a quick browse. I am going away for the weekend so I won't be able to update this story until I return but that should be in about 36 hours from now, so hold tight. Hope you like it and as always, please leave your comments and thoughts.**

 **Chapter 8:**

The next morning Claire quickly dropped in before she started her afternoon shift to say that the post had been shared over 250 times but so far no one had contacted her. Well no one that admitted to knowing James. So far she had two marriage proposals, one man asking to buy him if no one claimed him and several spam texts.

"First thing tomorrow I am getting a new phone number and will disconnect this when you are all sorted. There are some crazy people in the world. Anyway, I have to run up to ICU to start work but I may have some good news for you about where you can go when you are released tomorrow. Just need to sort out a few … kinks."

"Really, that sounds great. You're not selling me to the guy who contacted you are you?"

Claire laughed, "No, he didn't offer enough money, but we are still negotiating." Claire winked at James, "Will drop in before I go home OK."

After Claire left the rest of the day dragged on. James was completely mobile and able to get up and wander around a bit, but he was not allowed to leave the ward. He often came to the window and looked out at the world below. The world that was familiar and yet so foreign. It was so hard to describe how he was feeling to other people. He knew he had lived a life, but he had no recollection of it. Have you ever gone to say a word and you just blanked out on it momentarily? You know the word but it is just out of reach, but your mind is holding up a stop sign before it finally allows the word to return to your vocabulary with a rush of relief and a _Ta-Dah_ going off in your head. Well that is what _every_ thought and _every. single. moment._ was like. He knew he had it in his head, but he just couldn't find the right way to get the information to come forward. There was no _Ta-Dah_ moment, and from what Dr Petersen said, it was unlikely there ever would be.

He had to find out who he was and get some answers. He may never remember the memories, but if he could find someone to answer some questions … and not even hard questions … _easy_ questions like; Where do I live? Do I have a family? What do I do for a job? And _What the hell is my NAME!_ He also wanted to know why no one was looking for him. Did he have no friends or family? Was he some sort of secret agent on a mission? Did they think he was dead? Was he from another country and no one realised he was missing yet? He was positive he was American but maybe he had relocated overseas and his family or friends didn't realise he was missing yet.

The need to know these answers, worry gnawed at him day and night. Based on the way his stomach constantly hurt he could very well be on the way to an ulcer too. And he was constantly fighting anger. Anger at his situation, anger at who may have done this, anger that no one was looking for him and worst of all, anger that he may _never_ find out who he was. That anger bubbled in him again now … the red-hot rage flowing through his body but he fought it down. But was getting harder each time. Between the tears and the anger he felt he was no longer in control of his emotions.

After subduing the fire monster in his brain one more time, he sighed and lifted his forehead from the refreshingly cool glass where it had lain while he stared at the world and wondered where he fit in it.

When he returned to his room he was surprised to find a man standing in it, obviously waiting for him. He was older than James, silver hair, light blue eyes and an inch or so shorter than him. "Can I help you?" James asked him.

"I needed to come and see you for myself?" he answered cryptically.

"O… K… Well here I am." James sat down on the side of his bed and the stranger sat in the chair beside it and just watched him. James looked at him, was he someone he knew? There was no reaction from his mind or body to say that he did, but then, _would_ there be? "I'm sorry but … do we know each other?"

The man seemed to realise what was going on and James saw a look of horror cross his face, "Oh my gosh, no. I'm sorry I didn't think about that. No, we have never met. I'm Sean, Claire's husband." The man held out his hand for James to shake. James shook it but had to admit he felt a little disappointed that this man held none of his secrets. "I had to come and meet you for myself because Claire asked me last night if you could come and stay with us until you sorted yourself out. I just had to come and make sure that your weren't … you know a psycho or something that had her fooled."

"Oh, OK."

"You're not are you?" he asked.

"Not what?"

"A psycho, you know…" Sean held up his arm and made several downward slashing motions such as a knife wielding serial killer might do.

"No I'm not, well not that I know of … you know," James tapped his head and both men smiled, easing some of the tension in the room. "I had no idea she was thinking of take me in. I would never have asked or expected her to do that and I understand if you want to say no. I mean you don't know me at all … neither do I as it so happens."

Sean sat back and crossed his arms over his chest, "I must admit my initial reaction was a flat out 'no' but she was pretty adamant. I said I would think about it but I really couldn't make a decision without meeting you myself, so here I am."

"I understand. So is there anything you want to know? Remembering I have a memory that is only a week old so …"

Again Sean laughed. "No, like I say, just wanted to meet you before I agreed to let you stay. I just wanted to make sure you weren't swindling Claire. She has a good heart that woman, wouldn't of married her if she didn't, but she seems particularly taken by you and I don't want to see her get hurt. But you seem legit. I tend to trust my gut about things like this."

"Me too."

"And how would you know that?" Sean asked suddenly on the defensive.

"Honestly I don't know, I just do. I have no memories but I still know who I am, what I would and wouldn't do in any situation … I guess it's my 'moral core memory'."

Sean seemed to accept this explanation and stood to leave. "OK, I'll tell Claire she can bring home her lost puppy, but I will kick your ass to the curb if you do one thing that makes me question your condition or your 'moral core'. Understood?"

"Absolutely, understood, one hundred per cent, and I promise I won't overstay my welcome."

"No you won't. See you tomorrow." And with that he left the room.


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: Here is the next chapter. Sorry to keep you waiting longer than the standard 24 hours but unfortunately I have been away from my computer. The good news is you don't need to wait very long until you get Chapter 10. Again, many many many thanks to everyone who is favouriting, following and reviewing. I am so happy that I am getting such a positive response from a silly idea I had laying in bed one night. I hope you enjoy Chapter 9.**

 **Chapter 9:**

It was after lunch by the time James was released, having undergone his last couple of memory and mental acuity tests and then having to wait for the pharmacy to supply his medication. He was still on light dosage of anti seizure medication, and there were some mild painkillers for the headaches (the stronger ones made him feel quite loopy but he hoped that was something that would dissipate with the headaches), which he was told to expect to continue experiencing for the next several months. He also was told that when these ran out he would need to pay cash for the next lot if he hadn't sorted out his insurance. He had 30 days of meds supplied. _Great, something else to add to the pressure,_ he thought to himself.

By the time he arrived at Claire and Sean's house he could barely keep his eyes open. Apparently bone tired weariness was to be expected following brain surgery, or so everyone was telling him. It felt strange to sleep so much, he felt he was someone who usually needed little sleep but this twelve to fourteens hours a day was definitely not usual. Again this was knowledge that snuck up on him unexpectedly but again, it was something that just _was_ rather than something he remembered. So Claire showed him to her son's old bedroom (both of her children now away a college) and he took advantage of the spacious bed to have a nap. _So glad to be out of that damn small bed. How was someone my size supposed to be comfortable in a single bed for christ's sake._

He awoke the aroma of roast pork and he suddenly realised how much he missed good food. He may have no memory of his favourite foods, but apparently his stomach and tastebuds did, and judging by their reaction, this was up there with the best.

During dinner they discussed how the Facebook post was going and Claire told him she had lost count of how many times it had been shared. She also updated him on the callers and text responses she had received. "One seemed promising, but when I called him back and asked him to provide some sort of proof that he knew you, he said you had a … well part of your anatomy was microscopic."

"And how did you know it wasn't?" Sean asked her suspiciously.

"Because I have given him numerous sponge baths during his time in ICU and I know for a fact this description is … inaccurate." James blushed bright red, which caused a Sean to laugh at his predicament.

Changing the subject James asked if there had been any other leads.

"No, but one of the women who wants to marry you is becoming quite insistent, even sending me several naked photos of herself for you to look at."

"Oh show me!" Sean said reaching for her phone.

She snatched it away, "I will not, besides I have already deleted them."

Both men looked quite crestfallen at that.

"You're no fun. That could have been my future wife and you just deleted her," James joked.

"Hmmm, I have one guy saying you are the spawn of Satan, another says you are the second coming of Christ…"

"That's a possibility," James said.

"Trust me it's not; another woman who claims to be carrying your love child. I responded to her stating if she could provide a DNA swab after birth I would arrange for a comparison. She called me a bitch and I haven't heard from her since. More spam … more spam … someone saying you are ugly … I have apparently won the Dublin lottery … more spam … and that is it."

"It was a long shot I guess."

"Early days yet James, don't lose hope. Besides, I have a little present for you," Sean said and produced a road map of Washington state. "I thought you might be able to have a look at this and see if there is anything that jumps out at you. You might not be local but obviously you know Washington so it was worth a go."

The three of them leant over the map when it was unfolded and pointed out some towns. Claire pointed out Silverdale, where he had originally been found but it didn't resonate with James. In fact, nothing on the map initially leapt out at him. He stopped and put his finger over the town Marysville but it didn't sound _quite_ right, but a town just north called Arlington also grabbed his attention. He also noticed across the border in Canada a part of Vancouver called Richmond, which also made him stop for a moment. "Maybe I _am_ Canadian."

"Well if you are, we can't get you up there without a passport," Claire said. "I'll call the police and let them know that there is a slight chance you are Canadian. I think they have already checked missing person's there but I will make them chase up again. I'm still waiting on them to get back to me with the fingerprint results. He _misplaced_ them apparently," she said angrily using air quotes for misplaced.

"Well, how about this. I will call Harrison Medical in Silverdale and ask them who bought you in. If we can track down the ambulance then we may be able to find out exactly where they picked you up. If we go back there maybe something might feel familiar," Claire suggested.

James shrugged, felling deflated at the lack of progress, "I guess, better than sitting around doing nothing."

Claire stood to clear the dishes and gave James a reassuring hug as she passed him.

"If nothing works out in Silverdale, we will take a drive up to Marysville and Arlington and look around there OK," Sean said holding up the piece of paper he had written the town names down on, trying to help out. He actually found himself liking James and could understand why his wife was so keen to help him out. He _was_ like a lost puppy.

The next day, not only had Claire managed to track down the ambulance that transported James, but also the address he was picked up from. She phoned the station and talked directly to the paramedic. "We arrived on scene and realised he was circling the drain so we did a scoop and run." Claire new a scoop and run was a term used by first responders who realised that if the injured party wasn't taken to a trauma hospital immediately, they were unlikely to make it even with their intervention.

"What about the people who reported him, did you get their names?"

"No sorry. When we got there, there was no one else around. Whoever called 911 didn't stick around I'm afraid."

"What about the original 911 call. Was there any information given on that?"

"Just let me check," there was silence on the other end of the phone as he read his notes, "Says here they reported a drunk guy had come out of the alley and then passed out on the bus stop bench. They said he had a bit blood on his head so they think he must have fallen over and bumped it. Looks like they just assumed he had partied a little to hard so they didn't bother waiting around for us."

"Ok well thank you for your help."

"Hey, can you tell me if he made it?"

"He did but he is having some memory issues which we are trying to sort out."

"Well, I'm just glad we got him to hospital in time, when he started seizing in the bus I honestly didn't think he would make it to morning. Glad he did though."

"Well thanks for your help, with this and for James that night."

"Just doing our job."

So braced with this information the three of them headed from Seattle to Silverdale to see if anything seemed familiar to James. Sean's GPS signalled the end of the trip with the overly friendly robotic female voice advising, "You have reached your destination."

They all slowly climbed from the car and took a look around. It was a fairly quiet area just around the corner from a main street with a couple of apartment buildings and houses and a strip mall with an alley behind it.

"According to the paramedic you were found lying on a bus stop bench … must be that one over near the shops." Claire advised and they made their way over to the bench.

James once again looked around but couldn't recognise anything around him. "Nothing is familiar. I have no idea why I was here. If I lived here don't you think it would be more familiar to me?" he asked Claire and Sean not really expecting an answer and only receiving a shrug from each of them in response.

"How about we take a walk around, drop in to a few places and see if anyone recognises you," Sean suggested.

"What, we walk into the stores and say ' _hey, you don't happen to know my name by any chance do you?'_ " Anger making his comments sound snippy.

Claire rubbed his arm in a calming manner and once again shrugged, "Why not."

"Because they will think we are crazy," now there were tears threatening again. When would these emotions settle down?

"How about we take a photo of you, we go in and ask if they know you, you know like the cops do, and if they do then we will bring you in. If not we move on."

"Fine, go and do it." James attempted a small smile as Sean took a photo on his phone. He then went for a slow amble while Sean and Claire popped in and out of the shops. Each time they came out they shook their heads indicating that they had no luck. They had gone into every shop, except the two restaurants that were shut until late afternoon, and no one had recognised James.

They turned the corner and looked up the street. They could see the other entrance of the alley that ran behind the strip mall and more apartment blocks behind that. They debated walking the block but if there were no more shops to drop in to there wasn't much point.

"Let's just head back," James said dejected.

"We might as well just cut through the alley, we are parked at the other end. Saves walking all the way back around the front, besides I assume this is the alley you came out of," Claire suggested and the three turned in to take the short cut.

They didn't notice the drops of blood on the ground, because most of it had been washed away now from the constant rain that drenched this part of the world, and what was left was no long the recognisable "blood red" colour you would expect, but more of a dark brown taint.

They passed an industrial bin that had seen better days, "Smells like someone died in there," Sean joked as they passed by.

They also didn't see the blood smear left on the side of the building … the smear that the investigators had assumed was left from the boys fleeing the scene … but was actually left by James after regaining consciousness, clambering from the almost full bin and staggering toward a bench where he once again passed out and was whisked away by an ambulance.

Sean pulled the paper from his pocket with the names of the towns on it wondering if they had enough time to dash up to either Marysville or Arlington this afternoon. He also noted the name Virginia.

Arlington, Virginia, Washington. What if Marysville was supposed to be Maryland? "Holy shit!" Sean exclaimed and stopped in his tracks.

"What?" Claire asked, looking around expecting to see something spectacular they had missed as they walked.

"Arlington, Virginia, Washington, Mary _land_!"

Claire stared blankly at Sean. "… Marysville you mean."

"No, what if it is supposed to be Maryland. James, I think you are in the wrong Washington. You are not from Washington _state,_ I think you are from Washington _D. C.!"_


	10. Chapter 10

**AN: Here is the next chapter. Sorry it is a little late again but I will putting up another one in a few hours to make up for the lateness ;) Thanks you for everyone who it taking the time to leave a comment and all the new favourites and follows. I am humbled.**

 **Chapter 10:**

Bishop watched as once again Gibbs pulled out the crime scene photos from Silverdale. She was starting to become concerned about Gibbs apparent obsession over Tony's death. She had asked McGee about it, but he had shrugged and said it was Gibbs way. Still she was concerned. She had been over the photos herself as Gibbs had said he wanted 'fresh eyes' but she had been unable to offer anything new to the investigation.

She noticed that one picture in particular was bugging Gibbs and he always spent more time on it than any other, but anytime she came over to ask him, he slid it back into the folder and pretended he was doing something else. She felt like she needed to talk to Gibbs about it but didn't know if it was the right thing to do. Before she would always seek Tony's guidance on how to deal with Gibbs but now … well now she couldn't and as always when she realised that the tears threatened to flow. She missed Tony; she missed him a lot. He had been such a good mentor to her, helping her out with her training, guiding her through the minefield that was Leroy Jethro Gibbs, helping her play tricks on McGee to lighten the mood. Something was missing from the team now, and now it was never coming back.

She wondered what Tony would do in this situation. McGee had told her that Gibbs had once become obsessed over the killer of a former team member and he saw Tony and Gibbs go toe-to-toe about it outside MTAC, but he had no idea what was said. Right, if Tony was willing to confront Gibbs, then so was she! She stood and went and stood in front of Gibbs desk. Once again he slid the photo into the folder and looked up at her. For the first time since meeting this man, she thought he looked tired. Not just tired… lost.

"Need something Bishop?" he asked after waiting for her to say something that never came.

"Yes, No, I mean …," she couldn't do it, "would you like a coffee, I was going to go and get one and I thought…"

He frowned at her, that wasn't what she wanted to say and he knew it. "Coffee? OK."

"Ok, good, well then I will just…" she backed away from his desk and spun around pointing her fingers in the direction of the lift. "… go get some coffee."

She felt his eyes on her back as she went off to buy a coffee … she hated coffee! No way he bought that. She almost got to the lift before regaining her nerve. She spun around again and strode back to Gibbs desk and before she could second guess herself, she said what she wanted to say, "I'm worried about you Gibbs, you are obsessing over these crime scene photos and I don't know what you think you are going to get out of them. Tony is dead and his killers are behind bars awaiting trial. I know you want to bring him home but … he's gone Gibbs. You need to let it go."

Gibbs raised and eyebrow above his piercing blue eyes (wow they really were an icy blue) and then slowly rose from his seat. "You know what Bishop?" Bishop leant back, trying to escape the gaze that could make the toughest criminals quiver in fear, but then his eyes softened and a small smile caused the edge of his mouth to curve up, "you sound just like Tony."

"Oh, do I?" she asked with a quizzical look on her face.

"Call McGee and meet me down in Autopsy in ten," he said, grabbed up the Silverdale file and strode away.

"O… K…" ' _Not exactly what I expected but at least he didn't hit me in the head'_ she thought to herself before going back to her desk and dialling Tim's number.

Ten minutes later they were all gathered in autopsy, including Abby, Ducky and Palmer. Gibbs laid out the photos from the crime scene, "Time for a campfire."

Bishop noticed a smile from almost all around the table. She had heard about the 'campfires', which had apparently been invented by Tony when he was Team Leader several years ago, but had never participated. They all gathered around the autopsy table and looked at the pictures and reports, some were picked up, and others were placed in different orders.

Ducky was the first to speak, "What are we looking for?"

Gibbs shook he head, "That's just it Duck, I don't know. _Something_ is off and I can't put my finger on it. I have looked and looked and I can't see it but I _know_ it's there." Gibbs frustration showed on his face, a rarity on his normally stoic features. "I'm too close to it."

Abby came over and gave Gibbs a hug, "If you think something is hinky, then it's hinky, and we will find it."

It was quiet for the next several minutes as each person went thought the files, looked at the forensic reports and reading the witness statements. Finally, it was Palmer who broke the silence. "What is this?" he asked holding up a photo of the blood smear on the wall past the dumpster.

McGee answered, that is a smear of blood found on the wall, it was tested and the DNA confirmed it was Tony's blood."

"But according to the sketch, this was found on the wall just past the dumpster, away from where they came into the alley."

McGee shrugged, "Beenie said they scattered after they … you know. They obviously left the print behind when they ran."

Gibbs looked up at Palmer, "What is it Jimmy?"

"It's probably nothing …"

"Mr Palmer, if you have something to say, I suggest you share it with the group," Ducky said, knowing Jimmy's proclivity to shutting down when the crowd's eyes were on him.

"It's just that the witness statement here says that she saw the suspects around the dumpster, but then they came back out and split up … how would she have seen them _all_ come back out if, as you said, they split up at the dumpster?"

"Maybe she only saw two?" McGee suggested.

"Or maybe one of the boys went over there and leant against the wall before coming out?" was Abby's suggestion.

"Or someone got blood transfer when they threw away some rubbish," Bishop added to the possible scenarios.

"OR MAYBE WE SCREWED UP!," Gibbs bellowed. "We don't deal in _maybes_ , we deal in facts. Abby, get the CCTV footage back up and find out how many came out of that alley, McGee, call this witness again and find out _exactly_ what she saw. Bishop, go over, every single item of evidence again and look for how that smear got on the wall."

"But Boss," McGee piped up, not wanting to be the devils advocate but feeling like he had to be, "they said he had stopped breathing after the seizure, they said he was dead."

"Timothy, it is very common for people who had had a severe seizure to stop breathing for some time, even a couple of minutes. While the body may have stopped convulsing externally, it may still be happening internally. Breathing usually resumes by itself once the seizure has passed. It is quite possible that Tony started to breath again after being tossed aside like yesterday's news!," Ducky positively spat out the last part.

"And you never thought to mention this earlier Ducky!?" Gibbs looked at the older man with a look that would make many quiver.

"I was not under the impression that Tony being alive was a possibility, Jethro! You informed us he had died and _this now_ is the first time you have shown any doubt about it. I _assumed_ you were sure!" Ducky's just as fiery as Gibbs, both men angry, not at each other, but at themselves for missing something so vitally important.

Gibbs spun on his heals and headed for the door.

"Where are you going?" Ducky asked, already knowing what Gibbs was about to say.

"I'm on my way back to Seattle, because _maybe_ Tony put that smear there himself."

Abby gasped, "You really think Tony could be …"

"I don't know Abby but I need to find out. Don't get your hopes up because _maybe_ he isn't laying is a stinking dump but he might be a John Doe in some mortician's fridge, or _maybe …"_ Gibbs left the rest unsaid.

No one wanted to get their hopes up, they had been in the business of death and tragedy too long to believe in happy endings, but even if they could just bring him home to lay him to rest, that would be better … better than now.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11:**

James waited for most of the crowd to deplane before he himself got up and grabbed his bag from the overhead locker. He had insisted on going to DC by himself, refusing to allow Claire and Sean to put themselves into any more debt over him. They had already bought him his plane ticket and given him some cash, a cell phone, some clothes and the bag he carried it all in.

"You call us as soon as you get there, I have programmed mine and Sean's cell phone numbers into the phone, along with my friend, David's number. I have called him and he has a place for you to stay. This is his address. He can't pick you up from the airport, but he said you can go straight there in a cab and he will leave the back door open for you OK." Claire had tucked the address into the wallet before pressing it into James' hand. He looked at the wallet and when he opened it he saw several hundred-dollar bills inside.

"Claire, no I can't take this. It's too much."

"It's not enough, but it's all we have," Sean said. "We can't send you off to a place without a penny to your name. This is just to help you out and if you need anything else, you call us and we will do what we can. We have enough left to get you a plane ticket back home here if things don't work out OK."

James couldn't believe the generosity of these people, "I will pay back every single dollar as soon as I can, and if I don't find what I am looking for, well I will work it off when I get back."

They had hugged and James was sent on his way.

As James made his way through the airport he felt a sense of familiarity. It was almost like the feeling of deja vu you get, that moment when you think 'I have been here before' but then realise you haven't. It was a strange sensation but it was also a good sensation. It was the first time he had any feeling of familiarity with anything before. He was sure he was on the right track this time. He was busy looking around when he was struck hard by another airport dweller who said, "Watch we're you are going dickhead."

James head spun from the impact but he is sure he managed to murmur some sort of apology. He walked over and leant against the wall waiting for his head to settle down. He still suffered from headaches and had been told by his doctor to be careful not to do any more damage to his head for some time. Now he understood why.

He shook his head and stood up again and made his way to the front of Ronald Regan Washington National Airport to wave down a cab. As a cab pulled up he reached into his pocket for his wallet only to find his pocket empty. He searched the other pocket and his jacket but all of his pockets were empty. His wallet and phone where gone. The cab he had waved down had not waited and had pulled away after another fare jumped in.

James felt sick to his stomach. He had no money, no phone and no idea where the hell he was supposed to go. He threw down his bag and screamed "FUCK!" at the top of his lungs causing everyone in a hundred yard radius to spin around and stare at him.

He sat down on the nearest bench and tried to calm his panicked mind. He put his head in his hands and thought. If he phoned Claire, she would send the last of their money to him and then they would have nothing left, and he would be in a position of having to fly back before he had a chance to find what he was looking for. He would call Claire, but not yet, not until he had a plan. Besides, he didn't have her cell phone number anymore, and he would have to call her work and then she would know something was wrong. He had to get out of the airport first. If he could get into the city then maybe … maybe what? His memory would come flooding back and life would be good. Hardly!

Right, step one; get into the city. He stood, grabbed his bag and headed over to the information desk.

"Good afternoon sir, is everything OK, you seemed a bit upset before," said the pretty attendant behind the counter.

James blushed, "Oh you saw that did you? Seems my wallet and phone have been stolen and now I have no money to get home."

"Oh my goodness, I am so sorry to hear that. We have had such a problem with pickpockets here lately. The security is trying to crack down but there just seems to be more and more every day. Do you want me to call you a cab? You can pay them when you get home if you want."

"Um, no I don't know … I don't live here, just visiting so I just need to get to my hotel and I can sort it out from there. Is there any sort of free shuttle bus or something?" James hoped there was because that was about the only way he could see getting into the city from here that didn't involve using his two feet.

"Why yes, we have shuttle that leaves every half hour and goes past all the major attractions and then to all the major hotels. Do you know which one you are staying at?"

"I can't think of the name off the top of my head, the name was in the wallet."

"Oh well it goes to many of the top hotels like the Paramour, the Hampton Inn, the Adams House, the Stamford Plaza…"

"What was that last one?"

"The Stamford?"

"No the one before that."

"The Adams House?"

Something in James head went off. He knew that name, the same way the names of Arlington and Virginia went off in his head on the map. "Yes that's the one I think," he said trying to quell the excitement that was rising. _Don't get your hopes up!_

"Oh good! Well the shuttle leaves from just past that building over there and will drop you off right at the door."

"Great, thank you so much for your help."

"My pleasure, sir and I hope the rest of your trip goes better than this. DC really is a safe city." She smiled.

"Me too."

He picked up his bags and walked over to the shuttle. By the time the shuttle made it's way through the streets of Washington DC, passing by the world renown buildings and stopping at all the hotels, it was over an hour later before he was standing outside the Adams House. Again, that feeling of deja vu hit him but the memories remained locked away in his damaged mind.

Had he stayed here? If he lived in Washington then why would he stay here? Did someone he know stay here? Did he work here?

He took a breath and headed into the swanky hotel. Well if he stayed here then he certainly must have had some money because it was definitely a high-end hotel. He walked through the reception area, trying to catch the eye of as many employees of the hotel as he could but he didn't receive the hoped for response of gasps of surprise and people rushing to him, instead all he received were a few polite nods and eventually one security guard asking him if he needed any help. Seems hanging around the bottom floor of a swanky hotel gets you attention for the wrong reason. He muttered out an excuse about looking for a friend before finally leaving the hotel. Well he might know this place, but they didn't know him.

It was time to think again and work out his next step; and soon, because night was creeping up way too quickly.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12:**

The domestic flight from DC to Seattle seemed to take twice as long as the supposed six and a half hours stated on the ticket. By the time Gibbs got off the plane he was anxious to see what his team had found out. He strode through the airport and dialled McGee's number.

"What have you got McGee," he said before Tim was even able to say hello.

"I spoke to the witness and she confirmed that she definitely saw all three of the suspects come out of the west side of the alley which means that none of them left via the east side. She also said that she only noticed the boys at the dumpster but didn't see them actually put anything _into_ it so … I guess they could have moved towards the east before she saw them and came back. Abby also said the CCTV footage confirms that they all came out the east entry before they split up. Bishop also looked at the original digital file of the smear and she saw what she thinks was a couple of ridge marks on it. Now when I say a couple boss, I mean a couple. Abby ran the ridges against Tony's palm print and also against the three suspects while it did come back as a possible match to Tony, it also came back as a possible match to Randal Cameron AKA Rusty. I wish I had better news Boss."

"It's OK McGee, at least it is something. I am going to head back up to Silverdale and have a better look at what is at the other end of the alley." Gibbs checked his watch, which was still on DC time and noted it was getting late. "Can you do one more thing for me McGee, something we should have done before now, I know it's late but can you call around the hospitals and see if anyone matching Tony's description was bought in that night with head injuries? Maybe call around the ambulance and fire departments to see if anyone was called out to an injury or even a decedent that night. If it _was_ Tony who stumbled out that night, then he had to go somewhere, whether it was a hospital or a morgue, and someone had to take him.

"On it Boss. And boss, I didn't think to question Beenie's story either. Everything matched up with what he said."

"I broke my own rule 8 McGee."

"Never assume … we all did."

Gibbs disconnected the call and headed over to pick up a rental car. He had a small argument with the attendant when she tried to explain he wouldn't need a paper map as all the cars had GPS but after seeing his expression she decided that crawling around on her knees looking for an old map in the cupboard didn't seem like such a waste of time.

With the fold out map, a hot cup of coffee and the keys, Gibbs settled into his car, worked out the route and headed off. As the Director had been involved in some high level meetings today, he was oblivious to what was happening, so he would no doubt be surprised when he received the emailed expenses tomorrow when he got into the office.

He opted not to take one of the many ferries that serviced the Puget Sound that separated Seattle from the west coast of the USA, choosing instead to drive south through Tacoma and North past Gig Harbour. He wanted time to get his head on. He didn't know what, if anything, he would find in Silverdale, and he refused to get his hopes up.

All they had to go on was one smear of Tony's blood that may, or just as possibly, may _not_ have been left by Tony. But Gibbs knew his gut, he trusted his gut, and since returned to DC his gut was fairly screaming at him. Every time he looked over at Tony's, now Dorneget's, desk he felt sick. Was it just grief? Was it just hope? Or was it more? Was it that inexplicable link he felt to Tony from the first moment they met in Baltimore? He smiled when he thought of that brash young man chasing him down the alley and screaming out something about tube socks. He couldn't imagine Tony in tube socks now. He was pretty sure they were all wool. Hell knowing DiNozzo they were probably cashmere.

For the first time in a month, he felt like he was doing the right thing. He felt like he was close, really close. Maybe it wasn't to a happy, healthy Tony, he refused to allow that thought because he knew the crash of emotions if he found out Tony wasn't alive would destroy him, but even if he could just bring his friend home and lay him to rest with all the honours and respect he deserved. Anything would be better than knowing that he was lying in a heap of garbage, discarded along with rotting food, used tampons and broken toys. Tony deserved a better end than that. And maybe that was what upset Gibbs so much, not so much that his friend was dead, but where he ended up. He allowed all these thoughts that he normally pushed down to tumble forward in his mind.

By the time he reached Silverdale his mind was clear and he was ready to look for anything that might lead him to Tony.

He parked his car near where the original crime scene had been and started walking around. His phone rang as he got to the western end of the alley. "Yeah McGee, how did you go?"

"Well I called the local hospitals and no one had an admission for a John Doe on that night. However, the girl on the desk at Harrison Medical Centre seemed a little … vague and when I asked to speak to someone else she said they had all gone home for the night so I will try again in the morning. She didn't understand what I meant when I said I was looking for a John Doe, but she was surprised at ' _how many men with that name went through the hospital he he he'_ ," he said the last part in a high pitched and somewhat dopey voice trying to convey his distain at her intelligence. Gibbs smiled at the frustration McGee would have been feeling, dealing with the less intelligent women was not one of his strong suits, that was more Tony's forte. "I also talked to a few of the ambulance stations that work in the district and one of them said that they had a woman asking similar questions a couple of days ago. He gave me the paramedics name and number but he isn't answering his phone. I will try again in the morning."

"Ok, send me his details and I will try from here as well. Good work McGee. Make sure everyone goes home. I will call if I find anything here."

"Ok Boss, good luck."

Gibbs entered the alley and made his way though it, _talk to me Tony, where are you?_

He and McGee had processed the entire alley at the time but Gibbs was more interested in the other side of the alley, and what lay beyond it's walls. He came out the east side into the shadows cast by the buildings from the last rays of the west coast sun. He looked around, not really knowing what he was looking for, it wasn't like Tony would still by lying on the ground a month after the event. He walked over to a bench and took a seat not realising this was the same bench his friend had collapsed onto a month ago. The rain that was so plentiful in this region had washed away the small pool of blood that had dripped from his head wound to the ground. It was no longer distinguishable from the other marks on the pavement.

Gibbs pulled out his phone and tried the number McGee had texted to him. As with McGee though, the paramedic's phone when straight to voicemail. Gibbs left a message anyway, "This is Special Agent Gibbs of NCIS, can you please return my call as soon as you receive this massage." Who knew how long it would be before that call was returned but at least he felt like he was doing something.

He looked down the road towards the strip mall that the alley ran behind. They had managed to get CCTV footage from the shops at the other end so maybe he would have luck on this side as well. As it was now after 1800 most of the shops were shut but two of the restaurants were open. When he went into the first one he found out that they didn't have any security cameras but he knew the Italian restaurant a few doors down did.

Gibbs entered the Italian restaurant, and the smell reminded him of all of those damn pizzas and pasta dishes Tony consumed at his desk. The owner had been interviewed during the investigation, but other than saying Tony had placed an order but never picked it up, he hadn't had anything else to add to the investigation … at the time. After asking the owner he confirmed they did have security cameras and they still had footage from that night. He asked the owner to email it through to Abby. The footage did not show the alley as the restaurant was in the middle of the mall, rather than one of the end shops, but it did show the street that the alley came out on, and maybe if Tony stumbled that way, it might have picked up something. He then called Abby to let her know it would be there in the morning. He also decided to order a large pepperoni with extra cheese pizza because he was hungry and that was Tony's favourite pizza. It felt right.

He ate his pizza while walking around the streets looking for something … anything that might help.

Nothing did. He booked into a hotel and tried to get some sleep but his dreams had other plans.


	13. Chapter 13

**AN: Here is the next chapter. I promise there will be reunion soon just a little bit more tension for you before that though. Hope you are all still enjoying the story. This chapter marks the half way point so still lots of goodness to come. As always thank you to those who are taking the time to read, follow and comment this story. The response has been overwhelming. Big cyber hugs to all.**

 **Chapter 13:**

James next step was to try and stop Claire from worrying about him so he had to both manage to contact her with no money or phone, and convince her he was fine and everything was going to plan.

He found a phone booth and did a reverse charges call to University of Washington Medical Centre and managed to get Claire's new cell number off one of the receptionists. Apparently he was quite charming in is previous life. Now to get in contact with Claire and convince her everything was hunky dory even though he was not calling on the cell phone she gave him. He came up with a plan of attack and managed to use his charms again to borrow a passer bye's phone and called Claire.

"Hi Claire, it's James."

"Oh my god, I was starting to worry, why didn't you call sooner and why aren't you using your phone?"

"Yeah sorry about that but I dropped the phone and it wouldn't work after that so I have to get a new one. Will pick one up tomorrow when the shops open."

"OK, well you let me know the number as soon as you get it. Who's are you using now, it's not David's, and he said you aren't at his house yet? You didn't get lost did you?"

"No, no, I'm not lost." _Can you be lost if you have amnesia? Aren't you constantly lost?_ "Look, sorry about the whole David thing, I turned up here and I went past somewhere and I thought I remembered something so I am following that lead. Umm, you don't have his address again do you? I can't find that slip of paper, I think it fell out of my wallet."

There was silence on the other end of the phone, "James… what is going on? You have no phone and now you don't have David's address which was in your wallet? Do you have your wallet?"

"Yes of course I do, I just can't find the address, that's all…"

"You are in trouble aren't you? That's it I'm coming out there."

"No Claire, it's fine… look here it is, I must have tucked it in a different place. Memory of a goldfish Ha ha … any way I am going to go and check out this lead so I will catch up with David when I get back from that, might be a couple of days and I will let you know when I have my new phone. It's all good, miss you Claire, say hi to Sean for me, speak to you in a few days. Bye" And James hung up the phone quickly knowing that Claire didn't believe a word of what he said. He handed the phone back to the elderly couple that were kind enough to loan it to him and he headed off in the opposite direction. He could hear their phone ringing and he knew it would be Claire looking for some answers so he walked as fast as he could without looking desperate knowing the elderly couple were not about to come sprinting after him.

He felt awful for lying to Claire but he was not going to let her go into debt to help him out, he was on his own and he would be fine. How hard could it be for someone with no money, no cell phone, no memory and no destination to get by? Once again the gravity of the situation hit him. He had no idea what step three would be and he was starting to get really hungry.

He wandered the streets for a while before coming across a tourist information desk that was open 24 hours a day. He managed to get from them a map of the Washington DC CBD area and a little of the outlying suburbs. It should be easy to work out where he was because instead of names there was little drawing of the buildings that were tourist hot spots. He also asked for a pen and some paper, which they were happy give out and were sponsored by First National Bank of Washington… nice.

He also found out about a midnight market that was a foodies heaven not too far away. Having no other better options, he headed in that direction and hoped he could get enough free samples to sustain him until the morning.

He went to the market and looked around and yes there were a couple of free samples but three toothpicks worth of food was not going to do it. He sighed and made his way to one of the tables and took a seat, at the other end of the table was a group of three who were happily munching away on several different plates of food. Between the three of them they had two types of pasta, three plates of Chinese food with rice and various combinations, a bowl of soup, plate of fries, three hotdogs and huge cups of frozen coke. His mouth salivated at the smells emanating from their end of the table. He unfolded his map and got out his pen and paper (sponsored by First National Bank of Washington) and studied the map. But honestly his heart wasn't in it when his stomach was taking over all his conscious decision making, so twenty minutes later when the three left the table, complaining about how full they were James looked down and saw at least a third of their food left behind. He quickly glanced around and slid down the table to the discarded food. He had a moment of shame at his seagull like antics but the loud groan from his stomach put those woes to bed. He had almost a full hotdog, with onions, ketchup and mustard, a plate of left over rice and a few pieces of what he assumed was sweet and sour chicken (or maybe it was pork), a quarter of each of the pasta dishes and half a plate of fries. It was all stone cold but he didn't care. He also had almost a whole drink by the time he combined the three left overs into one. He ate every single scrap of food, knowing that this maybe his last meal for quite some time. This was apparently the second last night of this food festival so he could come back the next night and hope for the same outcome. He knew could survive for weeks without food, water you needed every couple of days at the minimum but food … food was a luxury, and one his body had been lacking.

Now that his stomach was more agreeable, he went back to his cartoonish map of Washington and studied it. Along with all the famous buildings being superimposed upon the map, there were also strange drawings including kids flying kites beside tidal basin, a fairly racist drawing of a Chinese man with a triangle weaved hat on his head indicating Chinatown and an old man with a wig and a gavel near the capital building … and they were just the ones that made sense to him. He still wasn't quite sure about the horse galloping around the white house or the pirate ship in the potamic.

One name that did stand out was Georgetown. He wasn't sure why but it was familiar. Did he work there? Did he live there? Was it just a really well known area? He wrote it down on the paper and then went back to the map. Next to Georgetown was Foggy Bottom and he let out a little giggle that was both incredibly juvenile and very familiar. Like something he did every time he heard that name, and he heard it a _lot_. He cleared his mind and allowed he eyes to flow down the map guiding his fingers along roads that sounded familiar, past buildings he knew well and he worked his way down until … he reached end of the map. He couldn't be positive, but he was pretty damn sure he just followed a route he travelled regularly, like maybe from home to work, or vice versa. He needed a bigger map but more than that, he needed somewhere to sleep. He was exhausted and his medication was past due and as soon as he had it he knew it would only be a matter of minutes before he was asleep.

Should he try and sleep in a park, or find an alley to crawl up behind. Somehow he thought that people sleeping rough would not be accepted in this part of town. Way too touristy. Nope, he needed a shelter and judging by the clouds coming in from the west, he would need one soon. As much as he didn't want to ask, he really had no choice, so finding some of the friendlier and less touristy looking people, he was eventually guided to a shelter not too far away. He knocked on the door and was greeted by a friendly African American woman. When he explained his predicament she was more than happy to accommodate him for the night. He was lucky that there weren't as many there tonight, as a new shelter had opened a few miles away and some of the regulars were checking out the "new digs" as she put it. She showed him to a cot and told him that a small breakfast would be served in the morning if he was hungry. He knew he wouldn't partake having more than enough food not long ago, and realising that there were people in far more dire situations then him. No tomorrow, he was going to head to the edge of the map and see where that would lead him.


	14. Chapter 14

**AN: Here is today's chapter. I hope you are all still enjoying the story. We are now on track for me to post the last chapter just before the premiere of Season 13. Sounds like it is going to be a cracker! Anyway, please enjoy this chapter.**

 **Chapter 14:**

McGee sat at his desk, having arrived early hoping there was something he could do. Abby told him she had the footage from the restaurant and they both went down to the lab to look at it. Unfortunately it didn't show very much at all until, "What was that?"

"I saw it too," Abby said as she started to wind the footage back, "There!" she froze the screen and they both looked at an ambulance with it's lights flashing fly past the street.

"It may have nothing to do with Tony though Abby," McGee said, trying to quell his own excitement as well as Abby's.

"I know," she said, "but maybe it is McGee." She allowed the footage to roll forward again at fast speed until once again they both saw the flash on the screen. Again Abby rolled the footage until they saw the ambulance again, this time heading away from the alley, again their lights flashing. Abby checked the time stamp and then went back and checked the time from when they saw the ambulance the first time. "Four minutes and twenty-seven seconds."

McGee looked over at her, "That isn't much time, are we sure it is the same ambulance?"

Abby put both frames up side-by-side and zoomed in until the numbers on the side of the ambulance were clearly showing, as was the logo of the Silverdale Fire Department. It was the same truck and it was the same company that the paramedic they were chasing worked for.

"Four minutes isn't a lot of time McGee, so the patient was close … I mean really, really close, I mean, we are talking a couple of hundred yards if that ... and look," she zoomed in again to the first shot and pointed to the rear lights "they have both their break and blinkers on. They were stopping there to treat them. This could be him McGee, this could be the ambulance with Tony in it."

"Even if it was that close Abby, and even if that _was_ Tony and not someone completely unrelated, then they didn't spend a lot of time working on him to stabilise him which means he was either unresponsive, or in desperate need of hospital care or both. Which could also mean he didn't survive …"

"No McGee, stop right there. No negativity! We have to stay positive and send out positive vibes to the universe. This is good news McGee, enjoy it for a moment."

McGee looked into Abby's stunning green eyes, and saw that she needed this; she needed him to be happy. "You're right Abs, this is good news, I'll call Gibbs and let him know."

McGee made his way back up to the bullpen and called his boss on the way. It was early in Seattle but McGee had no doubt Gibbs would be up, or at worst sleeping very lightly. He answered after only two rings.

"Hi Boss, Abby and I just looked over the footage from the restaurant and although we didn't see Tony, we did see an ambulance arrive and leave again with only four minutes and twenty-seven seconds between turnaround. That isn't a lot of time boss."

"No it's not but if they got him to the hospital quick enough," he responded.

"If it was even Tony in the back of that ambulance, we still don't know if it was or not."

He could hear Gibbs sigh on the other end of the phone; "No we don't but lets all just hope it was McGee, better than the alternative."

"Which is?"

"He's still eight foot under garbage McGee!"

McGee felt annoyed at himself for that, "Right, sorry Boss. I will try the hospital and the paramedic again as soon as it gets a decent time over there." Gibbs once again disconnected the call without a word, as he would any other day, but today McGee couldn't help but feel that the boss may not be so happy with him. He didn't mean to keep bringing up the worst-case scenario but the truth was, he was too scared to hope Tony might be alive. Gibbs and Tony were both "prepare for the worst but hope for the best" kind of guys, but McGee, he didn't like to get his hopes up. He was a "prepare for the worst and don't expect anything better because you will be crushed if you are wrong," kind of guy. Some people called it pessimistic; McGee preferred the term protective.

He walked into the squad room and saw Ellie and Ned working on various files, obviously trying to keep busy.

Ned called out to McGee on his way past the desk, "Ellie told me about Tony still being alive," he said in his husky voice.

" _Possibly_ being alive Ned, we have no proof yet." _Damn I'm doing it again!_

"Right, sorry. But still, that's pretty amazing news if it's true!" Ned looked at McGee and decided it was time to get busy and work on some old cold case files.

About an hour and a half later, McGee decided it was late enough Pacific Time to try the hospital in Silverdale again. He picked up his phone and heard Bishop's phone bling. He knew it was her Facebook notification noise because he heard it enough times when he tagged her in a post when she was with him. Normally she would ignore it during work hours, especially if Gibbs was here but today, he saw her reach over for the phone that was sitting on her desk. Maybe she was hoping for a funny post to cheer her up. McGee dialled in the number of the hospital and looked over to Bishop who was staring wide eyed at her phone, pale and in obvious shock. He looked over at Ned who also noticed her look and he returned McGee's look with a shrug.

"Harrison Medical Centre, Shauna speaking," McGee grimaced at the voice on the phone as he knew it was the same airhead he spoke to yesterday. However the look on Bishop's face was more of a concern. He knew he was being rude but he hung up in the receptionist's ear.

"Bishop, what's wrong, are you ok?" he asked his partner with concern.

Ellie's signature frown indicating she was trying to workout a puzzle was plastered over her pretty features but it was more than that, it was the pale features and the shock in her eyes. She looked up at McGee, "It's Tony!"

McGee and Ned both rose from their desk and walked over to her, "What do you mean, is there a post by him?"

"Has someone hacked his page?" Ned asked, looking mortified and furious at the possibility.

Ellie shook her head, "No, it's a picture of Tony. A friend posted it to my wall asking if this was the guy I worked with that died." She turned the phone around and McGee also saw Tony's face in all its glory on Bishop's phone. "It _is_ him isn't it?" she asked, her hand over her mouth, needing confirmation that this was indeed her friend.

McGee just nodded, unable to say anything else.

Ned finally found his voice, "what is it? Is it an old picture, some sort of joke, what?"

Ellie scrolled down the page and read the post that went with the photo out to the men, " _Please help me identify this man. He was admitted to Washington University Medical Centre, in Seattle during the early hours of Saturday March 28, 2015 with extensive head injuries. Upon waking from a coma he has no memory of who he is or where he is from. To date the police have been unable to identify him though missing person's records, and we are still waiting to hear about fingerprints. We need to locate family, friends or loved ones to help him recover his memories. Someone must be missing this man! He is kind, sweet, well spoken and he deserves to be back home wherever that is. If you recognise this man, please contact me immediately on 425 555 6843, Claire."_

"Oh my God, he's alive," Tim grabbed Ellie and spun her around in a huge hug, both laughing and jumping up and down with delight. Ned threw his arms around the pair and joined the joyful bounding.

"Someone mind telling me what is going on here?" Director Vance had walked in during their celebration.

McGee and Bishop both turned to the director both still had huge smiles on their faces while Ned continued punching the air in delight, they were not afraid of getting in trouble, they were elated.

"We found Tony! He's alive!"

The Director just stared at the three agents as if they had all lost their minds. Ned certainly looked like he had. Ellie handed her phone to the Director so he could see for himself. The look of shock was quickly replaced with a smile that stretched from ear to ear. "What did she say, where is he?"

"What did who say?" McGee asked.

"The woman who made the post, this … Claire woman," he asked. The agents stopped excited jittering and looked at each other.

"Um, we haven't actually called her yet Director," Bishop advised, "We were just so excited, I mean we only just found this the moment you walked in, so we haven't called yet."

"Well I suggest you do so."

"We need to call Gibbs too, let him know," McGee said lifting his handset to dial Gibbs.

Ellie pressed the number on her phone screen and pressed the "call 425555684" when it popped up on the screen. He heart was thumping and her hands were shaking, and Ned was leaning in to try and listen to the conversation, so when it went to voicemail, they were crestfallen. Damn she wanted an answer and she wanted it now.

She heard McGee on the phone to Gibbs explaining what was happening and she mouthed the word "voicemail" to McGee so he could let Gibbs know what was happening.

"Hi this is Eleanor Bishop from NCIS and I am calling in relation to your Facebook post. We know the person in the picture and we really would like to talk to you about where he is and what has happened to him. If you could call me back as soon as you get this message I would really appreciate it, I will be waiting for your call so as soon as you get this, I mean straight away because …" she heard the beep indicating the end of her message.

"Yep I'll just get the number for you boss," McGee said waving Bishop over so he could see the number on the Facebook post, "Yep it's 425 555 5684 and her name is Claire. Bishop left a voicemail message so we have to wait I suppose …. Ok … yep we can do that … sure your number, will do." McGee hung up and told Bishop that Gibbs wanted them to send text to this woman as well with his contact details. "Gibbs is going to keep calling the number and is heading over to the hospital now. Can you take a screen shot of the post and send it to Gibbs too please Bishop."

After Ellie typed the text and sent the pictures to Gibbs, the four of them stood stupefied and lost in their own minds before Ellie finally asked, "Now what? Do we let everyone know?"

"I think that sounds like a fine idea Agent Bishop, how about we collect Ms Scuito and head down to Autopsy with the good news," even Vance couldn't wipe the smile from his face.

Never before had Autopsy been a place of so much joy and jubilation. It's a shame it wouldn't last.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15:**

Gibbs had just managed to drift back to sleep after McGee's initial call so when his phone buzzed not even two hours later he was a little annoyed. "What now McGee?"

"Tony's alive!"

Gibbs was a little surprised by the young man's change of attitude. Not two hours ago he was trying to dampen everyone's growing hopes, knowing he was just trying to protect everyone, and more importantly, himself, from what he though was a likely fall. "Look McGee I didn't mean to snap at you before …"

McGee cut him off, "Ellie received a Facebook post and Tony is alive. Someone at Washington University Hospital has him and is trying to locate his friends. He must have amnesia or something. She is calling her right now to find out where he is. Damn! It went to voicemail; Ok she is leaving her a message to call as soon as she receives the message. I can't believe it Boss."

Gibbs was trying to process exactly what McGee was talking about. He knew Facebook was some sort of social media thing where people posted stupid pictures of themselves and bored their friends with every detail of their mundane life so he wasn't really sure how Facebook found Tony. However, he remembered how Twitter helped them find a plane so he put his confusion about the social platform aside.

"McGee, what is the number?" he waited until McGee got the number and jotted it down on a notepad along with her name, he also told Gibbs that Ellie had left a voicemail and that now they had to wait, "I'm not waiting."

"Ok," McGee responded.

"Send me whatever this Facebook thingy is…"

"Yep we can do that…"

"And get Bishop to send a text to this woman with _my number_ and have her call me _immediately_. I'm heading over to the hospital now to try and track this woman down. I'm not sitting around anymore." And once more Gibbs hung up his phone. He dropped his head with relief. He knew Tony was alive, his gut never steered him wrong before. If only had had listened to it weeks ago.

His phone beeped indicating he received a text and he opened it to see Tony's face. It wasn't his usual smiling "nothing could bother me" smile, but his "I'm trying to look on the bright side but I'm really worried" smile. The one he never showed to his workmates, and only showed Gibbs on a very rare basis. It was a smile that Gibbs knew meant Tony was hurting and scared. He dialled the number on the post but just like with Bishop a few minutes ago, it went straight to voicemail. He left a very simple message, "My name is Special Agent Gibbs of NCIS and I need you to call back as soon as you receive this message."

He grabbed up his keys and headed to his rental car. The map he had didn't have the names of hospitals on it so he turned to technology. He hated computers and smart phones and GP whatsists, but if it got him to Tony then he was going to give it a go. The GPS started up when the engine turned on and had a couple of options to choose from. Thankfully he had seen his team use all this smart stuff so he at least knew he could tap the screen rather than look for a button to press. He tapped in Set Route and it bought up several more options, one of which was type in address, well that was no good he didn't have an address, another option was POI near you, what the hell was a poi? Wasn't that a fish? The one that caught his eye was emergency and when he tapped that he was offered options of police, fire departments, medical, when he hit that he was then offered a menu of doctors, hospital or other. When he hit hospital it came up with an alphabetical list of hospitals, and towards the bottom was the one he was looking for, Washington University Medical Centre. Once he hit that option, the screen changed to that of a road map with a big arrow on it and a woman's robotic voice told him that the trip would take one hour and fourteen minutes. "Ha, you haven't seen me drive lady!" and Gibbs put the car in gear.

Forty-eight minutes later (and several warnings from his GPS companion that he was exceeding the designated speed for this road) he pulled into the main driveway of the hospital. When a security guard tried to tell him he couldn't park there he flashed his badge and walked straight past him into the air-conditioned hospital. He walked up to the information desk, which thankfully was manned from seven am, and pulled out his phone, looked again at Tony's photo before looking to see the name of the woman who posted the photo. "I'm looking for a Claire Douglas, I am assuming she is an employee here, a doctor or nurse or something," he said to the man behind the desk.

"Oh, Claire, yes she is up in Neurology ICU but I am not sure if she is working at the moment but you can go up and check with the desk up there but you probably won't be allowed into ICU; Family only you understand."

Once again Gibbs flashed his badge, "Think this might get me in? Where is Neurology?"

"Fifth floor, turn right when you get out of the lift, there is a reception area there and they can let you know if Claire is in or not."

Gibbs left without so much as a thank you, anxious to find Tony. The elevator was crowded and of course stopped on every floor on the way up. Finally after what felt like an eternity, another robotic voice indicated he had reached the fifth floor. He got out and turned right as instructed and walked towards the next barrier in his way. "I need to know if Claire Douglas is working."

"May I ask what it is in relation to sir?"

For a third time since entering the hospital grounds the badge was flashed.

"Um OK …" she tapped a few things into the computer and finally looked up, "I'm sorry, Claire isn't on just yet but she is expected to start her shift shortly."

"What time?" Gibbs asked gruffly.

"Um eight AM. She usually gets in about fifteen minutes beforehand so I would expect to see her within the next fifteen to twenty minutes. You can take a seat if you like."

"Can you tell me if there are any John Doe's in ICU at the moment?" Gibbs doubted that Tony would still be in ICU. He looked healthy enough in the photo if a little on the frightened side.

She hit the keys a few times and shook her head, "No, the last John Doe we had was moved from ICU to the neuro ward nearly two weeks ago."

Gibbs heart leapt in his chest, "Is he still in the hospital?"

Tap, tap, tap, "No, he was released on the twenty-seventh."

"Do you have an address, a contact number, anything for him?"

Tap, tap, tap, "No, sorry, it just says to contact Claire Douglas."

"Damn, OK thanks. Can you please let me know the second you see her, I'll just be over here drinking your god awful coffee."

"Sure, I'll point her out when I see her come in."

Gibbs went over and put some money in the coffee vending machine and was rewarded with a cup of luke warm, god-awful coffee. He pulled out his cell phone and tried to call the number on the Facebook post again. Again it went straight to voicemail. The fact that it wasn't ringing meant that it was probably turned off. He could only imagine the number of crazy calls she was getting from this post. Hopefully it was just turned off and not thrown away in frustration.

He paced backwards and forwards reminding the lady behind the desk of one of those caged animals in the zoo that just go backwards and forwards just looking for the opportunity to escape, or rip the head of their captors. It was when he finished his third cup of luke warm god-awful coffee that the receptionist got his attention and pointed toward the elevator.

A blonde woman in her fifties, attractive and a little on the heavier side of thin walked towards him with a cell phone up to her ear. He stood in front of her and blocked her way while holding up his badge once more and hopefully for the last time. "Claire Douglas?"

She looked at him with a rabbit in the headlights look before stammering out "Y-y-yes."

"My name is Special Agent Gibbs from NCIS, is there somewhere we can talk?"

She pulled the phone from her ear and pointed to him, "You just left me a message," she pointed to her phone, "I just switched it on, and there was also a message from a Bishop was it?"

He nodded, "I need to speak to you about him." He turned his phone around and showed her the picture of Tony. He expected her to be relieved or excited that someone was here about a John Doe, but instead she seemed cautious and even suspicious.

She nodded her head and said, "We can speak in the family room, were we will have some privacy," she shot a look to the suspiciously crowded reception desk that suddenly had an influx of nurses and staff behind it, no doubt coinciding with the arrival of the Federal Agency looking for her and receptionist, Bethany's, loose lips.

She guided him into a small room with a couple of couches, tv on the wall and what looked to be a top end coffee machine. _I should have waited in here._

"So Agent Gibbs, how can I help you today?"

"I am here about this man, I believe you know where he is," Gibbs said.

"Can I ask why you are looking for him? Is he in some sort of trouble? Is he … is he a criminal?" She asked in return.

"No mam, he isn't in trouble, he is one of my agents and he has been missing for over a month now."

"He's an agent for NCIS? What is that?"

"Naval Criminal Investigative Services, we investigate crimes and terrorist threats against the US Navy and it's personnel. Can you tell me where he is?"

She didn't respond to him straight away, instead looking at him and obviously thinking about what she had to say before saying it. "Can I ask if he is one of your agents, why you didn't report him as missing?"

Gibbs sat down, she wasn't going to give him any information without some answers herself. Gibbs found himself liking this woman. "Well, we were told he was dead. His gun had been used in a robbery and, long story short, when we caught up with the person who had taken his gun, he told us that he had been killed and his body dumped in a dumpster. By the time we arrived at the crime scene the dumpster had been emptied and we believed he had been buried under tons of rubbish at the tip."

She cocked her head, "And you just took their word for it?"

Gibbs was starting to get a little frustrated, "Look, they said he was dead and told us details of what happened, we went to the crime scene and everything checked out."

"Not everything, he wasn't dead now was he." She crossed her arms in front of her. "Look I don't mean to be difficult, but I have had so many crazy people trying to lay claim to James that I am…"

"James?" Gibbs asked.

"Yes, when he woke up we suggested he pick a name for himself because he didn't really like John, so he picked James. As I was saying, with so many people trying to lay claim to him I am a little sceptical. Besides you have not shown any proof that you actually know him. You have a Facebook photo that _I_ took and a badge that could be out of a cereal box for all I know. What can you tell me about him? Does he have any distinguishing marks that you are aware of? Can you tell me his height, his eye colour, his _name?_ "

Gibbs pulled out his phone and dialled a number, while he was waiting for it to be picked up he said, "His name is Anthony DiNozzo, he is 46, six foot two and his eyes are green… hey McGee, can you send me some photos of Tony… any you have on your phone anything that will help me prove to his protector here that I know him."

Gibbs was trying not to lose his temper, he was so close and this woman was the only thing standing between him and Tony, but he knew getting angry was not going to get anything accomplished, "Ok, look he has a scar on his leg, he broke his leg in college playing ball and they had to operate to pin it together," her eyes narrowed at this so he knew he was on the right track, "he has another scar on his right arm about here," Gibbs pointed to a spot on his own arm, "where he was shot after being locked in a shipping container even though his partner at the time said it was a scratch from a bit of wood, um … oh, he has a cut under his chin which he said he got as a little kid when he fell off a seesaw, but which he tells everyone else he got while protecting a beautiful lady from a lunatic." Gibbs phone beeped and he opened his messages to see several photos of Tony, including one of Tony, Abby, himself which Tim took at Abby's last birthday dinner. He turned the phone towards her, "Here, is this proof enough."

She took the phone from him and looked closely at the picture but instead of smiling, tears started to well in her eyes. Gibbs didn't like the looks of that. "Oh god I wish I had better news, but I don't know where he is anymore."

Gibbs heart sunk. This couldn't be happening, "What do you mean you don't know where he is anymore. Where did he go when he left the hospital?"

"He came back to our place, my husband and I let him stay with us until we could work out who he was or where he was from. You have to understand; he has no memory, nothing. He didn't know his name, where he was from, if he has a family … oh god … does he? Have a family I mean, wife, kids, do they think he is dead?"

He could see that Claire was getting upset and he wanted to try and keep her calm until he could work out where the hell Tony had disappeared to this time. "No he doesn't have a wife or kids, he is single, but he has a dad and his team at work who care for him and are desperate to get him back home. So can you please tell me what happened."

Claire took a breath and wiped her eyes, "Well he came home with us and we were trying to work out _anything_ we could about him. All he knew when he woke up that he was from Washington, and as this is Washington _State_ that is what we all assumed he meant, even James … I mean Tony. He said he didn't think hew was from Seattle, so we got out a map and he pointed to a few places that sounded familiar to him but nothing really jumped out. We decided to take him up to Silverdale, where he had originally been found and look around and see if anything was familiar, but it wasn't. So Sean, my husband pulled out the list of towns Ja … Tony had listed and it hit him, he wasn't from Washington _State_ but Washington DC! As soon as we said it his face lit up, he said it sounded right to him. So my husband and I we got some money together and we bought a ticket for him to go to Washington."

Gibbs had been listening to the conversation and nodding but interrupted now, "He went alone?"

"Yes, we wanted to go with him but we really didn't have enough money and James refused to let us go into debt. As it happens, I have a friend who lives in DC and I had arranged for James … ugh _Tony_ … to stay with him when he got there but …"

Gibbs knew this was the bit he didn't want to hear, "But?"

"Well I am not really sure. David called to say that James hadn't turned up which got me worried, but an hour or so later James called but he didn't call from the cell phone we had bought him, it was someone else's, some elderly man's phone. Anyway, he told me he had dropped the phone and broken it, and I thought 'oh OK, that makes sense', but then he asked me for David's address again which I thought was strange, because I had tucked it away in his wallet away from the cash so I couldn't see how he had lost it, but when I questioned him about it, asked him if he had lost his wallet and when I said I was going to come out, he said he had found the slip and asked me to call David and tell him he wouldn't be able to get to him for a couple of days because he had seem something familiar and was going to follow that lead and then just hung up in my ear. I knew something was up so I called the number back but the man who answered said James had taken off down the road and he couldn't catch him. He had told them that he had lost his phone and he needed to call a friend. I just knew something had happened."

"So I assume you didn't decide to fly out there."

She shook her head, "No, when I told Sean what had happened he said that we couldn't afford to fly out there and look for a needle in a hey stack, and that James had probably just swindled us out of hundreds of dollars. I didn't believe that for a minute of course, and I don't think Sean did either, but honestly, we just couldn't afford to go after him."

"And you have no idea where he is now?" Gibbs asked deflated.

"No, I'm so, so sorry, I really wish I had something better to tell you Agent Gibbs, I really, really do. All I wanted was for James to find out who he was and now I know but I have no idea how to let him know."

Gibbs shook his head. This was so typical of DiNozzo! Wouldn't ask for help if his life depended on it, especially if it meant causing someone else hardship.

They were back to square one.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16:**

James woke mid morning local time. Having not gotten to sleep until two AM and with his anti convulsion medication on board he was not surprised he slept so late. He also had a massive headache, which he knew he would need to take his pain meds to control. He didn't like taking them as they did make him feel a bit strange and Claire told him he acted a little loopy when he was on them, but by the feels of his head, he would not be able to control the pain with just Tylenol. He dry swallowed two of his painkillers and remade the bed. As he was making his way out the door, Beth, the woman who had greeted him last night asked, "you want anything to eat Sugar? Not much left but at least a little something for the road?"

He noted that the dining hall was pretty much empty and that the kitchen was packing away so he grabbed a bread roll, a bottle of water and an apple for later and thanked Beth for her help.

"Now Sugar, if you don't sort yourself out today, make sure you get to this or another shelter nice and early. Cold front heading in and it they are even talking about a possible snowstorm. Can't say I ever remember snow falling in April but the weather these days is just so damn crazy anything is possible. Either way, snow or no snow, it's going to be cold so get yourself some cover Sugar OK."

"OK, I will, thanks for the warning Beth."

James made his way out to the mid morning, which was deceptively sunny and warm. He was glad Beth had told him about the front otherwise he would have been caught out, expecting a warm evening like last night. He took mental inventory of his clothes hoping he had enough to keep him warm if he didn't make it to cover tonight.

Grabbing out his cartoon map he worked out where he was and started off towards the edge of the world. Well it was really only the edge of the map but it could be the edge of the world for all he knew. His head thumped with every step and he knew he really should be resting and looking after himself. Considering the plane trip and the knock he received from the person, whom he now realised was his pickpocket, and the stress of yesterday, the stress of not knowing what was going to happen today and … well the whole having no memory thing, he should not be surprised about his headache. He just hoped he could manage for another day or two. If by then he had still made no progress then he would call Claire, come clean and agree to whatever she thought needed to be done. But he didn't want to do that just yet. He was close; he could feel it. Everything had felt more familiar to him since he go off the plane yesterday then he had since he woke up nearly two weeks ago. This was where he lived, he was sure of it; it felt _right_. While he still didn't have any actual memories or ever walking, driving or even seeing this city before, he just felt familiar to him. Now he just hoped he could find something more beyond the map, either a feeling of home or security or even excitement.

He left the shelter and made his way to one of the main streets on the map that his finger had followed yesterday. His finger had passed what was indicated on his map as "Tidal Basin" so he set off in that direction. Unfortunately, not far past that, the map ended so he figured it was a good a place as any to start.

It was well past midday by the time he arrived at the road that passed the tidal basin and the cold change that Beth had mentioned was just starting to drop the temperature a bit. He was now at a loss. Did he continue wandering aimlessly and hope that where the road took him wasn't into the next county or did he try and ask someone for help, maybe hitchhike. He took a seat at a bus bench and tried to concentrate. His head wasn't feeling any better and all he wanted to do was lie down here and have a snooze. While he was contemplating his next move he heard a bus pull up and the doors open in front of him.

"You hopping on Buddy?" the driver called out to him.

He looked up and noted the driver looking at him, "I'd love to but I don't have any money. My wallet was stolen yesterday."

"Don't sweat it, get on. It'll be our little secret," he said.

"Really?" James couldn't believe his luck.

"Sure. You don't tell my boss and we will be all good."

"I don't know your boss so you should be safe," James picked up his bag and stepped up onto the bus. He looked and saw the bus pretty much empty except for one passenger at the rear who was more interested in listening to whatever was blaring from his earphones than what he and the driver were discussing.

"Where you off to?" the drive asked as the doors closed and James took a seat near the friendly fellow.

"Honestly I have no idea. I am trying to find something and it is off the end of this map so I am trying to get down there to see if I can find it."

The drive glanced quickly over his shoulder at the map James held and noted it was one of the tourist maps handed out throughout the city. "So what are you trying to find, most of the touristy stuff is north of here."

James cleared his throat, "Well that's kind of the problem, I don't know what I am looking for." Just then the bell rang indicating that the other passenger wanted to hop off at the next stop.

When the driver pulled over and let off his only presumably paying customer, her pulled on the handbrake and swivelled in his seat to look at James. "What do you mean you don't know what you are looking for?"

James thought about making up a story, but to be honest his head was hurting too much to think that quick so he decided honesty was the best policy, "Well, I actually have amnesia and I am trying to work out who I am and where I come from and the only thing I have to go on is the fact that my finger followed a route down this road and off the bottom of this map and where it would have travelled after that is anyone's guess."

The driver looked at James in surprise and interest, "For real? You have no memory?"

"For real."

"Wow! Well isn't it handy that I decided to pick you up. So happens this bus goes down this road and off the map. I can't promise to get you all the way but maybe if you see something familiar I can let you off. Otherwise, you can just keep me company for a while and tell me your story on how the hell you ended up with amnesia! I'm Gus by the way … yeah I know Gus drives a bus …"

So with that Gus who drives a Bus got the vehicle back into gear and James filled him in as best he could while they followed the designated route. They picked up three more fares along the way and Gus pointed out places the bus went past along the way, "we then swing down Capital Street over the bridge past Anacostia Park before heading out through Buena Vista, Knox Hill and that way.

James ears pricked up at the name Anacostia Park and when they got close Gus pulled the bus over and let James out at the closest stop.

"Thanks so much for this Gus, I really appreciate it. Sorry I don't have anything to give you except a half empty bottle of water or a bread roll. I had an apple but I ate it earlier."

Gus waved James offer away, "Don't worry about it, your story has by far and away been the most interesting part of my day, hell the whole year really. Look, not sure if you will find what you are looking for, but I swing back this way just before six tonight so if you need another lift somewhere, just be standing at that stop over there and I will give you are ride back. Bit of a different route but seems you don't really have a destination anyway."

"Thanks, I may very well take you up on that. And thanks again. I'd be walking for hours if you hadn't stopped."

"Good luck with everything James and I might see you tonight."

James waved at Gus as the bus pulled away and he headed off towards the park.

James surveyed the land in front of him and had to admit it was quite … ugly seemed a good word for it. It was just a large, maybe twenty or thirty acres, of light bushy growth, in parts, and large expanses of grassy muddy mushy bits between. There were some buildings in the distance, and there was the river he had crossed to the north. The park continued further up the river and seemed to have more tree growth up there, but down here was open. He couldn't imagine why this was familiar to him but he kept going, deciding to take a zigzag route through the park, hoping something familiar stood out to him. Did he jog here? Did he work in the buildings over there? Did he fish? He didn't feel like someone who fished, in fact the idea of having to hook slimy worms on a fishing hook made him feel gross; so definitely not a fisherman then.

He tried to let his mind go blank, hard with his head pounding the way it was. He stopped and took another pain killer to try and numb his head. He really should be lying down somewhere. Actually, considering it was only early afternoon, and Gus with the bus wouldn't be back until six, maybe taking a nap by the river was not such a bad idea. He headed down to the waters edge, found a quiet spot (well it was all pretty quiet as this didn't exactly seem like the type of park many people came to. He had seen a few people jogging and walking their dogs but that was about it. He settled down and closed his eyes and drifted off into a light sleep.

When he woke a little while later he noted that the sun was much lower in the sky, in fact it was getting pretty close to night and that cold front had well and truly arrived. He sat up and stretched and took a swig from his water bottle. He checked his watch (one of Sean's old watches) and noted it was nearly five thirty. He still hadn't gone over to the buildings over there, but if he didn't get back to the stop then he wouldn't be able to get a lift from Gus to … well actually he didn't really have anywhere to go. He looked out across the river and noted the large navy vessels docked at the Navy Yard across the way when suddenly the wind changed and the smell of the river accosted his nostrils and _BAM_ ; he suddenly had a vision of standing on the deck of one of those ships, the smell of salt water, metal and grease swept over him and then was gone. Just like that.

Was that a memory? Was that his _first_ memory? Was he a sailor? He knew he didn't mind being on the water, but then he also knew he didn't _love_ the water either so why would he be a sailor. Don't those guys _live_ for the sea? He had to get over there. Had to get on board a ship. He looked at his watch and noted that Gus would be at his stop very soon, so he picked up his bag and ran back to the stop. Thankfully the sleep had helped ease his headache and as he came up to the stop Gus pulled his bus into the curb.

"Hey, you're back. No luck then?" Gus asked him.

"Actually, the opposite. I think I need to get over to the ships in dock. I had a flash and I was on a ship out to sea. It was only a split second but it was the first time I have ever remembered anything. Can you get me over there?" James was positively shaking with excitement.

"I can, but you aren't going to be able to get anywhere near those ships James. They are part of the Washington Naval Base and that place is locked up tighter than Fort Knox. Look, I am pretty sure they have tours through the day so maybe if you come back tomorrow you might be able to get onto one that way."

James still hadn't sat down, to excited and nervous to sit, "I need to go there now! What if my memories are just there waiting for me to get in there."

"Look, I know this must be frustrating, but if you try and get on those grounds through the night, you won't see a ship unless it is one taking you to Guantanamo Bay, that's assuming they don't shoot you first." This bus was much more crowded than the previous one and a few people had head Gus's comment and were giving nervous glances James way. "Take a seat James, I need to get moving.

James swung into a seat behind Gus and once again buried his head in his hands. He was so close but he knew Gus was right. Better to go, have a good night sleep and head back there tomorrow.

After a few minutes Gus asked James where he wanted to go.

He shrugged, "I don't know. I'll just go back to the shelter again tonight I guess. Try and sleep and head back to the Navy Yard tomorrow."

"Now you're not going to a damn shelter. You can come back to my place tonight. It's not much; in fact it's pretty dismal. My old lady kicked me out a couple of months ago and I just found this place to stay in until she let me come back. Still waiting." Gus smiled over his shoulder at James. "But it's clean and most importantly, it's warm. We can have a pizza and you can sleep on the couch. I'll try and do a swap and see if I can't get my first run to be the Benning Park run which will take me straight past the Nary Yard entry. Sound good."

James nodded and smiled. He was so lucky to find such good people who were willing to extend a hand and help someone, who frankly had nothing to offer in return. He quickly brushed away a tear that threatened to spill, those unpredictable emotions forcing their way to the surface again "Sound great. I don't know how, but I will pay you back Gus. One way or another."

"Don't pay it back, pay it forward. Do something good for someone who needs it."

"I will, cross my heart."


	17. Chapter 17

**AN: Update time. Hope you are all still enjoying the story. Thank you to all the new favourites and follows I have received in the last couple of days. I can't believe how many are still discovering this story. Still a couple of chapters until the big reunion so hang in there. I might even post a bonus chapter today ... if you are all good. Please keep those comments coming, I love to hear your thoughts good and bad about the story. I am currently working on another story (once again daily about Tony because I LOVE him) so will hopefully will have that done shortly and will post when all finished. Hope you enjoy chapter 17.**

 **Chapter 17:**

Gibbs had left Claire with a promise that he would call her as soon as he had any news to tell her. He could tell she cared for Tony, or James as she had come to know him. He had his suspicions as to why he chose James. After all James Bond was his hero growing up. Probably one of the few people he could look up to when he was younger, fictional or not. He probably unconsciously felt a security associated to that name and so he picked it. He had spoken to Claire about his condition but she had suggested he speak to his doctor to discuss his diagnosis and recovery. Gibbs wanted to get on the plane and get back to DC so he arranged for Ducky to call and discuss it. At least Ducky would understand all that medical mumbo jumbo that would just wash over Gibbs head.

He had hated making that call. Instead of calling Ducky and hoping to have a private word with him, Ducky had answered the phone and put it on speaker and informed Gibbs that everyone was there waiting to hear the good news.

He head Abby call out in the background, "Did you find him, do you have Tony, is he coming home?" and he could also hear McGee telling her to calm down and let Gibbs speak.

So he told them. He told them that he had been a day too late and that Tony was no longer here.

"So were is he Gibbs?" Vance asked.

"He's in DC."

"Oh my god Tony's here? Where? Is he coming to NCIS? Who is he with," but again Abby was asked to refrain from the questions so Gibbs could tell them.

"That's the thing, I don't know where in DC. He's gone missing."

The silence on the other end of the phone was deafening. He could imagine the looks of confusion and disbelief on everyone's faces, and devastation on Abby's.

"I don't understand Agent Gibbs," Palmer broke the silence. "How has he gone missing? Didn't you find the woman who posted the photo?"

"Yes Palmer I did. I'll explain it fully when I get there but suffice to say, he went to DC to try and find … I don't know … himself I suppose but something has happened and Claire doesn't know how to get in contact with him. She spoke to him last night but he no longer has the phone she gave him, and she suspects he has no money either."

"So we don't know where he is … again," this from Bishop.

"That's right. Look I am on my way to the airport now to get the first flight home but I won't get in till late this afternoon at the earliest. I need you guys to try and find where he went to. He came in on United flight 1678 which arrived at fifteen hundred hours yesterday. After that is anyone's guess."

"Bishop and I will head out to the airport and see if we can find out what happened after he landed. Hopefully there will be some video footage, or maybe someone saw him there," McGee advised.

"I'll get a BOLO out on him, let all the local LEO's know to keep an eye out and to contact us if he is seen," Ned added.

"I'll call our sister agencies and see if they can be of any assistance to us," this from Vance.

"What did the hospital say about him Jethro? How bad is his injury? Is he recovered?"

"Well Ducky, that is actually why I was calling you. I need you to call a Dr Petersen at Washington University Medical and talk to him about Tony. Claire explained a bit to me but I think it will be better if you get all the facts, doctor to doctor."

"He's going to be OK isn't he?" Abby asked, hands clasped around her large cross at her throat, "He's going to remember everything when we find him isn't he?"

"Honestly Abby, I don't know. From what Claire said, it sounds pretty bad but that is why I want Ducky to talk to this doctor, so we know what is going on and how we can help when we find him."

"I'll call straight away Jethro."

"Good, I'll let McGee know what flight I can get on and I'll call again when I land."

"Very well Jethro, safe travels."

The flight had been long and tedious. He was sure the flight back had taken longer than the flight to Seattle, and that one had felt like an eternity.

As soon as he landed he once again called McGee but his phone died within seconds and all the information he got was that they still hadn't found him and tracked him to an information booth but then the call dropped out.

Gibbs sat at the traffic lights at M and Capitol Street, waiting for the lights to turn green. If only he realised that the second bus to pass in front of him was one driven by a man named Gus, and one of his passengers was his new friend James. But he didn't know that, all he knew was he needed to get back to the Navy Yard and join his team to try and track Tony's movements since yesterday.

He smashed his steering wheel in frustration, and not for the first time. Frustration at being so close only have Tony slip from his fingers, frustration at having to sit on a plane for over six hours and unable to do anything, frustration at the god awful traffic that had seen his trip from the airport to work take over an hour but mostly, his frustration of having missed such a crucial piece of evidence that could have had Tony back with them a month ago. This was a mistake he would never forgive himself for. Again he struck the wheel, just as the bus with Gus passed through and the light turned green.

He finally made it to the yard and through security at the NCIS building advising the guards that no, he hadn't found Tony and he would let them know if there was anything they could help him with.

The elevator ride, like the plane and the car ride, seemed to be going in slow motion. Finally he heard the ding and the doors slid open to his floor and the bullpen. He noted that everyone was there, waiting for him, Abby, Ducky and Palmer, Vance and his team.

"Sit rep McGee," he said striding into the bullpen and throwing his go bag behind his desk.

McGee stood and pressed the clicker and security footage came up on the screen.

"We've been through the security footage from the airport and have managed to track his entire trip through the airport. He de-planed as one of the last passengers," the security footage started to roll, obviously edited and pieced together by Abby most likely, and they could see the oh so familiar, and missed face of one Anthony DiNozzo.

"He looks so skinny," Abby said. "I mean he is skinny now, since … you know … he lost all that weight last summer, but now… he just looks _really_ skinny. Like sick skinny."

"Well he was in a coma for some time my dear," Ducky responded, "which I will fill you all in on next," he finished when Gibbs shot he and Abby a look indicating he wanted quiet while McGee continued.

"And we believe here," he froze the action on Tony being seemingly accidentally run into by another commuter, "is when he probably lost his phone and wallet. Airport security said there has been a spate of pick-pocketing incidents in the airport for the last month. He then proceeds out to the front where he flags down a taxi only to discover he has lost his wallet and phone." The next part showed where Tony screamed his frustration while throwing his bag down, "and you don't need to read lips to understanding what he said there."

Bishop took up the commentary, "From here he goes to the information desk and speaks to a Julie Hamilton, who confirmed he had lost his phone and wallet. She said he asked if there was any sort of shuttle into the city and she asked where he wanted to go but he said he couldn't remember. But, when she rattled off a few hotel names he stopped her at the Adam's House and she told him which shuttle to catch to get there."

"If he remembered the Adam's house, that's a good sign isn't it. It means he is remembering things doesn't it?" Abby looked pleadingly at Ducky hoping someone would tell her what she wanted to here.

He patted her hand, "We'll discuss all that in a moment Abigail."

"And here he is getting on that shuttle and that is all we have of him at the airport."

"McGee and I went to the Adams House," Ned picked up the spiel, "and showed his picture around but no one matching his description is registered to stay there."

"Well someone with no money is obviously not going to be staying at a eight hundred dollar a night hotel now is he," Gibbs said causing Ned to flinch under his gaze.

"Well, no, we realise that so we asked around and one of the barmen recognized him but said he never drank anything. Just kind of walked in and looked around, like he was looking for someone or something."

"Or hoping to see something he recognized," Gibbs added.

"We were also told by one of the security guards that they approached him and asked him if he was staying at the hotel but he said he just came in to look for someone but they didn't appear to be there so he left. That was where we lost track of him."

Gibbs anger flared at that, "So that's it, eight hours and that's all you got?"

"No, we have more," McGee said. "We traced the call that Tony made to Claire and tracked the owner down to Raymond Wagner. We called and he said that Tony walked away from them south on Twelfth Street from intersection of G Street. Bishop, Dorney and I split up and walked the streets flashing Tony's picture to shop, workers, anyone really and we hit pay dirt. Dorney found out he went to one of the information Kiosks at Federal triangle and she recognised Tony. She said he had come in quite late last night and asked for a map a pen and paper. He asked if there was anywhere he might be able to get a cheep meal and she suggested he go to the Festival of Food that was being held down at the National Mall. We went there and asked around. It was a night time festival so the only people there were the chefs and they mainly work in the back so they didn't recognize him, but we were planning on heading out there tonight and seeing if anyone recognized him."

"When does it open?" Gibbs asked.

"Soon, another forty minutes or so." Bishop informed him.

Gibbs nodded and turned to Ducky, "What did the doc say Duck?"

"I managed to get on to Dr Petersen only a few hours ago. Lovely fellow and he seemed quite fond of Tony, or _James,_ as he was known there."

"James?" the Director, who had been quiet until now, asked.

"I bet he named himself after James Bond," Abby said with a fond smile. "He was going home to watch a weekend marathon of Bond movies before … well, just before."

"Highly likely Abigail. It was probably a name that he was thinking about and one that gives him comfort." Again he patted Abby's arm in support. "Anyway, the news is quite sobering I'm afraid."

"It's bad isn't it?" Gibbs said, already having spoken briefly to Claire.

"Not bad but maybe … disheartening. Tony's head injury was severe. He was originally taken to Harrison Medical in Silverdale and he had a seizure in the ambulance on the way there. Unfortunately, Harrison is not equipped to deal with this type of head injury so they arranged for a medivac to Washington University in Seattle. He had another seizure upon arrival in Seattle that was quite severe. He apparently stopped breathing for two minutes and they had to bag him until he started breathing on his own. This obviously accounts for why his attackers thought he was dead if he had had a similar seizure with them. They immediately gave him some Tegretol, an anti seizure medication. Upon examination and CAT and MRI scans he was found to have a fractured scull and had a brain bleed on his left temporal lobe. They performed an emergency craniotomy, where a two inch circular portion of his scull was removed and the blood drained and a small blood clot removed," he paused when Abby gasped but continued again quickly, "He was given Pentobarbital which placed him in an induced coma which they kept him in for a period of ten days. They also removed the drain they had placed in his wound during this time."

Ducky took a breath and a sip of water from the glass on the table beside him. He read his notes and continued, "it was another seven days after that before he finally woke from the coma. Upon waking he was dazed and confused, as you would expect, but after they allowed him to rest and become less befuddled, if you will, after running a few memory tests he was diagnosed as having TBI; Traumatic Brain Injury; with a severe case of Retrograde Amnesia."

"Retrograde Amnesia, that's good because you get your memories back from that. Gibbs did and he was out for days. Remember Gibbs, you got your memories back," Abby continued to look for the silver lining, but it was becoming clear to everyone that that silver lining may not be very shiny.

"In most cases, yes, RA is only temporary and most people recover nearly all of their memories, however …"

"Nope, I don't want to hear any however Ducky! Tony is going to be fine, we will find him and bring him home and he will remember us. He has to."

McGee and Bishop both went and put their arms around Abby.

Gibbs nodded to indicate that Ducky should continue, "Yes, well, as I was saying, due to the severity of the seizures, the unknown number of them, obviously we are aware of three, but he may have had more between his attack and when he was found, and also the fact that it took him so long to wake … well there is no easy way to say this, but Dr Petersen feels that the chance Tony of recovering any of his memories is extremely low, and if he does recover anything, they will be only fleeting memories. He will probably never remember anything substantial from before the attack."

Abby finally let the tears she had been holding back flow and turned to McGee.

"So even if we find him, he will never know who we are?" Palmer asked.

"I'm afraid he probably won't Mr Palmer."

Silence filled the room as everyone took a moment to take in the enormity of what Ducky had just told them.

"Well he may not know us, but we know him and he is our family. We need to get out there and find him and we are not going home until we do. McGee, Bishop, Dorneget, let's get over to that festival and ask around." Gibbs strode out of the room, with the other three close behind.

"Speaking of family, I will call his father and let him know what is going on," Vance said and left to make another difficult phone call to Tony Senior.


	18. Chapter 18

**AN: Bonus chapter time!**

 **Chapter 18:**

When they arrived at the festival it was in full swing. People were everywhere enjoying foods and drink from all around the world.

Gibbs gathered them together, "Now remember, we are not just looking for people who may have seen Tony last night, we are also looking for Tony himself. If he managed to get some food here yesterday, he could very well turn up again tonight so keep your eyes peeled."

The team spread out flashing Tony's photo to stall holders. One recognized him as having a sample of his food but no idea where he went after that. Sadly by the time they had walked through the entire festival and asked every stallholder they came up empty. They were at a dead end.

"I know we need to find Tony and time is of the essence but … you know … could we maybe … eat something?" Bishop asked hopefully. Food was never far from her mind and it had been a long time since breakfast, which was the last time she had eaten.

Gibbs was about to say no until he realised that they really had nowhere else to go from here, and if they were to stay and hope Tony showed up, they might as well eat. Kill two birds with one stone. He nodded at the stalls, giving a nonverbal go ahead for his team to eat. Both Bishop and Ned took off while McGee walked over to a table and sat. It was a good position that offered a view of nearly the entire length of stalls.

"Do you think he will show up boss?"

Gibbs sighed, for what felt like the millionth time that day, "I don't know McGee, I hope so."

The men were silent for a while until McGee said, "He must be so scared? I can't imagine what it is like to wake up and not know … anything? It must be …"

"Terrifying. It is terrifying McGee. Hell, I only lost ten years and I was scared out of my mind. He has _nothing_ , not even his own name."

Tim stood and did something he has never done, but felt like he had to. He put his hand on Gibbs shoulder and squeezed. "We'll find him Boss. I promise." And he walked off to find both of them some food.

The four of them ate in relative silence scanning the crowd for any sign of their missing friend. Bishop tried to start a conversation a couple of times but each time it dropped off within a few exchanges.

It was close to midnight now, and most of the crowd had dissipated, returning home to their warm beds now that their stomachs were full. Gibbs couldn't help but wonder where Tony was sleeping, and if he had had any dinner. He had no money, no phone but he knew Tony was a very resourceful man. That was of course before his brain was irreparably damaged. Now? Now he didn't know what he was capable of. He just hoped that Tony's resourcefulness was as instinctual as Gibbs had always assumed it was.

Ned picked up their plates and took them over to one of the bins just as one of the janitors was clearing out the liner.

"Thank you sir. I hope you enjoyed your meal."

"Yes we did thank you. Have a good night." Ned turned away and headed back to the team before changing his mind and returning to the janitor. "Excuse me, did you happen to work here last night?"

"Yes sir, every night."

Ned fished out his phone and for the thousandth time that night, he showed Tony's photo. "You didn't happen to see this man either tonight or last night?"

The elderly man peered closely at the phone photo. "Well I think so. He was here last night, sat just over there," he pointed to a table not far from where Gibbs and the rest of the team were seated, "I noticed because he sat down without any food which is kind of strange at a food festival. Anyway I noticed the group at the end of the bench get up and leave and he slid on down and ate their leftovers. Had a good meal judging by how much they left on their plates," the man laughed at the memory.

"Did you happen to see him leave, maybe what direction he went in?"

"Well don't interrupt me boy and I will tell you. Anyway, about an hour or so later I noticed he was talking to several people who where shaking their heads and moving on. I figured he was begging for money or something, though he didn't look like the begging kind. I should know, been there done that. So I made my way over to him, I didn't want him kicked out by security, which they would if they thought he was begging, but turns out he was just asking if there was somewhere he could stay; a shelter or something. Seems he lost his wallet and the address of where he was supposed to be. I guess that explained the map he was carrying around with him. Anyway, I told him about a shelter I used to use when I was on the street and showed him where it was on the map. He headed off in that direction."

"Which shelter did you send him to?"

"I sent him to Jacob's House over on Ridge Street, runs between Forth and Fifth streets."

"And you haven't seen him tonight."

"No sir, and I have been keeping an eye out for him in case he wasn't as lucky tonight as he was last night."

"Thank you. Thank you so much, if you see him at all tonight, can you call me on this number immediately!" the janitor nodded his head as he took Ned's card and put it in his pocket. Ned ran back to Gibbs and the team and told them the good news. Ten minutes later they were parked outside Jacob's House and Gibbs knocked on the door … loudly. "Open up, Federal Agents."

Bishop looked at McGee, both worried that Gibbs very loud exclamation wouldn't just get the door open, but would possibly cause a stampede of some of the less law abiding tenants as they fled the building.

"What in blazes are you doin' thumping on this door in the middle of the night. People be tryin' to sleep in here."

"I'm Special Agent Gibbs of NCIS and we are looking for this man. May we come in?" Gibbs held his credentials in one hand and his cell phone in the other.

The woman looked at the phone and then the credentials before nodding and allowing the four agents to enter. "Is he in some sort of trouble?" she asked. Once again it looked like Tony had managed to win over another protective soul. Gibbs couldn't help but wonder how it was that people were so willing to help this man. The Tony he knew was brash, would never ask for help unless his life depended on it, and would often offend more people than he realised, yet everyone who had come across him was so willing to help and protect him.

"No mam, he's not. He's a missing person suffering from amnesia and we have been trying to locate him and take him home. Is he here?"

"Oh my, I knew there was something going on there. He just had this … lost puppy feel about him you know. I'm sorry though Sugar; he isn't here tonight. I told him to get to a shelter early because of this unseasonably cold weather but he never showed. We are full and have been turning people away since seven, but he never showed tonight. I'm sorry."

 _Again!_ Seriously, how was DiNozzo slipping out of their grasp every time?

"I don't suppose he told you where he was going by any chance did he?" Bishop asked.

"No, he left just after ten this morning but didn't say anything about where he was going. He did have one of those tourist maps he was looking at but I couldn't tell you where he went. I assumed he was just going to have a look around the city."

Gibbs believed this woman but he had to look for himself. Make sure Tony hadn't managed to sneak in after hours so with her permission, he and the team went through the building from top to bottom, but as expected, there was no Tony.

"Maybe he managed to get into one of the other shelters around town," she suggested. "Here, this is a list of shelters who would be able to accept him, you could try them." She handed over a list of names that had about twelve shelter names on them.

"Thanks, we will check them out."

"OK Sugar, and if you find him, you tell him Beth says hi."

"We will, thank you again."

"Twelve shelters, that's going to take us the rest of the night, even if we split up," McGee said, looking at the list over Gibbs shoulder.

Gibbs swung to the hapless McGee, "I'm sorry McGee, do you have somewhere better to be than searching for your friend? The man who has been like a brother to you for the last eleven years? The man who taught you everything you know about being a federal agent? I don't care if it takes the rest of the week. We don't go home until every one of these shelters is checked. Is that clear!"

McGee looked at his leader. McGee never meant that he wasn't going to keep looking, and he knew Gibbs knew that too. But he also knew Gibbs was lashing out at him because of his frustration at being close so many times and then having Tony slip away again. He knew also that if it wasn't him he would lash out at Ned or even Ellie, so he did what Tony used to do in the same situation. He took the shot and allowed Gibbs anger and frustration to be taken out on him, allowing Gibbs the release and protecting the rest of his team. "No Boss, I got no where else to be."

Gibbs nodded at McGee, an understanding of what just happened passing between them. "So we split up. You take Ned and search the ones west and north of here, Bishop and I will take the rest. We'll meet back at NCIS when we are done…. Hopefully with Tony."

The team split and checked out all the other shelters, but as the sun started to rise in the East and the last of the shelters had been checked, there was no sign of Tony. Once again he had slipped away.


	19. Chapter 19

**AN: This should make you all happy ...**

 **Chapter 19:**

James woke with a sore neck and the smell of musty carpet accosting his nostrils. Gus had been right, the place he lived in was dingy, but at least he had a place to live. Not like himself. He lay on the couch and wondered if he lived in a place like this. He doubted it. Looking at the water stains down the walls, the old red carpet that reminded him of dried blood (although why he would have such a affiliation with dried blood he had no idea), and the general dreariness of the furnishings. _This_ was not a home. Certainly not any home he would live in. He lay back and imagined what kind of home he would have. Clean. It would have to be clean, probably painted a fairly light colour. Maybe not white, but a light cream. He definitely felt like he would have a bright, clean place like that; and no carpet! Just the thought of how much dirt and hair and skin particles could get trapped in those fibres had his skin crawling; nope, definitely a hardwood, or tile kind of guy. Furniture? He knew this lump that passed as a couch would not make it into any home of his. Comfort; that is what he would look for in furniture, and it would have to look good too. Comfort and style. And a big soft bed, maybe a king size! Something he could stretch out in or better still share with that someone special in his life. Was there someone laying in his comfortable and stylish king size bed wondering where he was? Were there photos of his loved ones hanging on the wall? Snapshots stuck on his fridge with magnets. Maybe a drawing done by the kids was there too … if he had kids that was. Was the fantasy of his home anything like reality? Hell, maybe he lived in a place just like this. And maybe he would never know.

That thought made his chest hurt. Before he could get lost in the depression of his situation, Gus came out of the bedroom and they both got ready to head out and take the bus to the Navy Yard. Gus couldn't get the first run of the day but he managed to get the eight-ten to Benning Ridge, which got them to the Navy Yard stop at nine-fifteen. "This is your stop James."

James stood and sighed. He was both excited and nervous about what this day would bring. "Ok, here goes nothing I guess. Thanks again for everything Gus. You really helped me out yesterday and today."

"Well I gave you my number, so if you need a place to crash again tonight, just give me a call OK. You're welcome anytime you need it."

James extended his hand, "I might have to take you up on that offer. But, if I don't get any answers here then I think I might just have to call it. I can't keep bumming around and hoping a kind stranger will help me out. I have been lucky so far but I am bound to run into a psychopath sooner or later."

Gus laughed. "Not on my watch buddy. Besides, I have a good feeling about today. I think today … today you will get your answers."

"Hope you're right." James said.

"Well if I don't see or hear from you later then I will assume everything went well."

"Or I found that psychopath," James shouted as the door closed and the bus pulled away from the curb. He checked his pocket again for the hundredth time that morning to make sure that the fifty dollars that Gus had loaned him was still safe and sound in his pocket. He was going to need that to get onto a tour and into the base. He headed over to the gate that allowed tourists and citizens to enter the secured yard, but as he approached it didn't feel right. He decided to take a walk around to the front of the yard, on M street and see if anything there felt more familiar. The walk took another half hour but eventually he found himself standing in front of the main gate. A gate that was very familiar to him. A gate he knew he had passed through many, many times before. He started to walk up to the gatehouse, but noticed a sign stating, "authorised personnel only". So, he did have something to do with the yard. He wasn't just someone who liked to visit. He was an "authorised personnel". But what exactly did that mean? Did that mean he was a sailor? Or did he work on base as a citizen. He had to get inside but he knew this gate was not an option … unless someone on the gate knew him? He glanced over at the guards on duty but nothing felt familiar. Surely if it was someone he knew he would feel something wouldn't he? But as he had never met anyone from his previous life he had no idea. The only thing he had to go on was the familiar feeling he felt when he saw or heard something from his previous life. The guards on duty did not stir that familiar feeling in him besides one of them was giving him a weird look.

He decided he had wasted enough time here and double-timed it back to the entry around the corner for the tourists and sightseers. What he did not see was one of the guards on the gate go back into the gate house and look at the BOLO that was stuck to their notice board. Nor did he notice that guard call the number of NCIS to advise that the person in the picture had been seen, fleeing from the main gate, east on M Street.

The squad room was quiet as three members of Gibbs team were trying to catch up on some sleep since spending all of last night out going through homeless shelters to no avail. McGee was asleep in his chair, chin on his chest but sitting upright. Ned had his head on his arms on the top of his desk, quietly snoring. The loudest noise came from the smallest member. Ellie Bishop may look tiny, but the sound emanating from her mouth as she slept behind her desk was anything but.

Gibbs looked over his team, unable to sleep himself even though he had had less sleep then they, and had flown to and from the other side of the United States as well. He had had about ten cups of coffee since they had come back to NCIS a couple of hours ago so it was no surprise sleep wasn't interested in visiting just yet. He was close. He could feel it, but he had no idea what to do next. He had phoned Claire this morning, waking her in the early hours of the morning to make sure she hadn't heard from Tony yet. Of course she hadn't. She assured Gibbs that she would call the moment she heard anything.

The director had informed him that he had filled Tony's father in on the current state of affairs and senior had told Vance to let him know if they hear anything more. Obviously Senior wasn't interested in gracing them with his presence just yet. Happy to wait in his spacious New York Apartment than come down and actually pound the pavement looking for his son. If this had been his son he would have been … what? He would have been doing exactly what he had been doing. Not for the first time Gibbs cursed whatever entity or deity was charged with deciding who belonged in which family. Gibbs knew that Tony loved his father, and he knew that Senior loved his son, but they didn't really _like_ each other that much. So while Senior no doubt worried for Tony, he would rather do it at a comfortable distance, than actually here, where Tony would need him the most. Just another frustration to add to the growing pile.

He needed something … anything! He needed a miracle.

And that miracle arrived with the ringing of McGee's phone.

McGee snapped awake and snatched up his handset, "NCIS Special Agent McGee." Gibbs could see McGee's features change from sleepy to wide-awake in a nano second. He had something. "And you're sure it was him … when … and where did he go … if you see him again call the cell number immediately." He hung up the phone and looked up at Gibbs and the rest of the team who had roused and were now standing around his desk, "Just got a hit on the BOLO."

"Where?" Gibbs asked already back at his desk and grabbing his gun and credentials.

"That's the thing boss … he was at the main gate."

"You mean our main gate," Bishop asked in disbelief, "here? At the base?"

McGee nodded as he passed her already locked and loaded and heading out to find their friend.

The gate was a few hundred yards away so while Gibbs and Bishop ran up to the gate, McGee, and Ned ran across to the car park and picked up one of their sedans just in case Tony got further away than expected.

They all reached the gate within moments of each other and Gibbs went straight up to the guard in the gatehouse, "Which way did he go?"

The guard pointed right on M Street, "That way sir, he was running at a fair pace though. Lost sight of him so not sure if he turned."

"Why didn't you follow him?" Bishop asked?

"BOLO just said to report sightings. Didn't say anything about approaching or following him, Mam."

"How long ago?" Gibbs asked.

"Not more than three or four minutes ago, Sir."

Gibbs turned to McGee, who was still standing beside the car. "Go take the car. _Find him!"_

McGee nodded and he and Ned hopped back in the car and they peeled out in pursuit of their friend. Gibbs and Bishop went in the same direction but on foot. Gibbs knew that Tony could run for miles without even breaking a sweat, hell he had done a triathlon only last summer when he was on his new found heath kick. He knew if Tony had a three minute head start then he had no chance of catching up, but if he stopped for some reason, he didn't want to take the chance of driving too fast past him to see him standing or sitting on the side of the road.

They ran until they hit the corner of the navy yard. McGee and Ned confirmed by phone they were heading along M Street so Gibbs and Bishop split with Bishop going north on Eleventh Street, and Gibbs going south. He would search the perimeter of the navy yard. There was a river walk that ran along the front of the yard, which was only available to those who worked on base, or those who took the tour. He continued down Eleventh, towards the visitor entrance to the Navy Yard near the river walk. Tony had come to the navy yard for a reason so his gut told him he was still there. He just had to find him. He wasn't going to get away this time.

James ran back to the visitor's entry and managed to get there just in time to join the next tour group. Had he have walked he would have had to wait another hour before they let him in the gate. He entered with the group and he stayed with them for a while but as soon as things started to feel familiar he broke from the tour. He knew that certain areas of the base would be restricted to non "authorised personnel" but he was close … so close and if he _was_ picked up for being in the wrong place then maybe someone there would know him. He _knew this place_. No he had no memories but the feel of it was so … _right_. The smell in the air, the sounds of navy personnel going about their business, even the breeze that blew off the Potamic and blew back his hair as he walked around the corner. _He knew it._

When the tour group went right towards the Naval Museum he went left, following a road around. He saw a car park and as he crossed the driveway that lead in, he once again had a flash. _He was behind the wheel of his car, and as he came in to the driveway, he turned down the radio and turned right._ That was all he got, so he walked into the driveway and turned right and he just let his gut guide him. He walked past the row of cars, and into a small park. He walked through the park, looking around. There weren't many people there, a few here and there but no one noticed him. He was just another visitor in the park. He saw a coffee cart and as he walked towards it the smell of the coffee hit him. Again a flash, _he handed over the cash and grabbed the two coffee's one for him and one for …_ gone.

But when he came out from under the tree cover, that is when he knew he was home. Across the street stood a red brick building about three stories high. But he knew there was more underneath; another two subterranean floors. He could see the arched windows at ground height and he knew he had looked out of them before, _he dove to the ground and covered her looking out the window to see if he could see the shooter, he looked down to see if …_ gone.

He still didn't know who he was, or what he did, but he was home.

Gibbs had stopped running on the corner and decided fast jog was better. He needed to look at everyone he passed, he wasn't going to miss him _,_ not this time. He made his way down Tenth street, past the first visitors gates where he flashed Tony's photo but the guards hadn't seen him. He continued down Eleventh to the second guard gate, again flashing Tony's photo, but this time the guard had only just arrived on duty and the previous guard had just left for a break. If Tony was on the Navy Yard, then this is where he must have come in. He noticed the hourly tour group up the road turning the corner on their way to the Naval Museum. Should he follow them and see if Tony had joined the tour? He entered past the gate and started heading after the tour group before changing his mind. His gut was screaming at him to head to the riverwalk. He made his way down to the river hoping Tony had been drawn to the water or the naval ships docked here, but he didn't see a sign of Tony. He was passing the NCIS car park, heading along the river before turning right again to head back up towards the guard gate when his phone rang. It was the NCIS office number so it could be any office phone in the building. "Yeah Gibbs. What is it?"

"Agent Gibbs, you may want to return to the building."

"Why, whoever wants me can wait. I'm still looking for DiNozzo."

"That's just it Gibbs, I'm looking at him right now. He's outside, across the road just staring at the building. I don't know if you want me to go and get him and bring him inside?"

Gibbs had started running back to NCIS as soon as the guard said Tony was outside, "No, I'm just in the car park. I'll be there in a minute. Don't let him out of your sight." Gibbs hung up and sprinted the last 100 yards and then he saw him. It was his back, but it was him. He had finally found Tony!

James stared at the building trying to build up enough courage to step inside. He had been chasing a ghost trying to find the answers, and they were now right in front of him, in this building. All he had to do was step inside. But what if he didn't like what he found out? What if he didn't like who he was? He had so many questions, but he was terrified of the answers. He braced is shoulders and stepped forward to cross the road.

"Tony STOP!" he heard a yell from behind him and swung around. Walking towards him was a man, grey hair with a terrible hair cut, thin, strong, confident and he came and stood in front of him about eight feet away. James cocked his head and stared at him. What had he called him? He had an overwhelming feeling of … _relief!_ He _knew_ this man. He didn't know what his name was, didn't have any memory of him but his whole body was screaming that this was who he had been looking for. There wasn't only a huge sense of relief, but trust. He trusted this man … with his _life!_

"You know me don't you?" he asked, his body shaking with the pent up emotions he was trying, unsuccessfully, to keep in control.

The man stepped forward, "I do."

Gibbs watched at tears spilt from Tony's eyes and then so quietly Gibbs barely heard it, " _Please, please, please tell me;_ who am I?"


	20. Chapter 20

**AN: Well yesterday's chapter bought in a whole lot of comments. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed and all the new follows and favourites. To Pat, I am Australian, not Brittish :) Anyway, it is time for Tony to meet his friends again. I hope you enjoy the next chapter and as always, feel free to leave a comment.**

 **Chapter 20:**

Quite a crowd had formed in the reception of NCIS with news that Tony had been spotted right outside. He was a popular agent and had been missed so his miraculous return from the dead, which most of the employees were under the impression he still _was,_ drew people to every vantage point to witness the Gibbs and Tony reunion.

They watched as Gibbs stepped forward and took Tony's head in his hands and spoke. They didn't know what he said but they witnessed Tony nod and collapse into Gibbs arms. Not only was the fact that a dead man was standing outside their building, but the fact that _Gibbs_ was _holding him_ and _soothing him_ was so overwhelming the crowd was completely silent as it played out in front of them.

Both Ducky and Vance rushed to the front desk upon hearing the news and Ducky made it clear to the director that in Tony's condition, walking into such a spectacle could be too overwhelming to him, so Vance cleared the people from the front and ensured that Gibbs and Ducky could take Tony down to autopsy and allow him to settle down before meeting with anyone else, and only after Ducky examined him and gave them the all clear. He had also asked Mr Palmer to go and be with Abby and to try and keep her from Tony until he felt Tony was strong enough to take her overwhelming presence. He knew that was going to be no easy task.

Ducky waited just outside the main door, watching as Gibbs held the sobbing younger man who clung to him like a drowning man to a life preserver. Gibbs looked over and saw Ducky who nodded letting Gibbs know that the coast was clear and he could bring Tony over.

"Come on Tony, let's get you inside OK."

Tony nodded, still overwhelmed but he nodded and pulled out of Gibbs embrace and started walking with the older man across the road and into the building that had grabbed his attention.

Ducky greeted them at the door, "Welcome home Anthony. You have no idea how much you have been missed. I'm your friend Ducky."

Tony looked at this man, and again, while he had no memory of him, nor recognition of his name, he was drawn to him. He knew he was to be trusted, knew he cared deeply for him and he was an important part of his life. Tony just nodded and smiled at him, his voice not quite working just yet. He followed Ducky into the building and, instead of going to the elevator as his body wanted to do, they passed that and went down a corridor and down two flights of stairs and entered through the rear entry of autopsy.

The room was cold, sterile, the smell of antiseptic accosted his nose, but it smelt so familiar and right. _He saw Ducky dressed in his protective gown and clear-faced head cover leaning over an open cadaver._

"… alright Tony?" Ducky was asking.

"Sorry, what. Umm yeah, just … just a flash that's all. The smell I think," Tony responded as Ducky lead him over to a table and asked him to sit on it.

"It is not surprising, studies have shown that smell has the strongest link to our memories than any of our other senses. Have you had any of these flashes before?" Ducky asked as he helped Tony up on the table.

"A couple but not anything major. Just a split second and then it's gone." He looked around the room, hoping to drag some more of those memory flashes from his damaged mind, but none came.

"Well at least it is something. Do you mind if I give you an examination? I have spoken to Dr Petersen so I am aware of your injury so I would just like to check you out an make sure everything is how is should be."

"You spoke to him? You knew I was alive? How long? Why wasn't I reported missing?" Tony was starting to get agitated.

"We'll get to all of your questions Tony, just let Ducky check you out and then we will tell you anything you want to know OK?"

Tony nodded, "OK"

Ducky checked Tony's blood pressure, took his temperature, listened to his heart and inspected where his head wound was and that the healing process was well under way.

"So how are you feeling, physically Anthony? Any headaches?"

Tony nodded, "Yeah I have had some pretty bad ones the last couple of days but I have been taking these to keep them under control," he grabbed out the packet of pain killers from his bag and handed them to Ducky. "They are not too bad but still there. Not surprising considering the last couple of days I've had."

"Yes, you have been dealing with quite a lot haven't you. How do you feel now, how is the pain from one to ten."

"I don't know, a four I guess." Ducky looked at Tony. Now the Tony he knew would have said four if the pain was sitting around the seven or eight, but this Tony … four seemed like it actually meant four.

"Ok, and how about your Tegretol, the ani-seizure medication. Have you been taking that as scheduled?"

"Not exactly as regularly as I should. Between the time difference and the fact I am supposed to have it before food, it's been a little all over the place."

"So when did you take your last one?"

"Umm, last night around dinner time. I am supposed to take it twice a day but I haven't taken it for the last two mornings. They make me tired and I needed to be awake and alert."

Ducky looked at his watch. "Well I would suggest you have one now my boy. I am concerned that the amount is your system is too low and I don't want you having another seizure. I will go and get you something to eat and a make you a strong cup of tea. In the meantime, I would imagine you have quite a few questions that need answering so both of you make yourself at home. I'll be back shortly."

Gibbs helped Tony off the table and they walked over and took a seat at Ducky's desk. Tony sat on the chair beside the desk and leant back, leaning his head against the wall while Gibbs sat at the chair at the desk and leant forward, elbows on knees. "Where do you want to start?" Gibbs asked.

"God I don't know. I have so many questions and they are just all jumping around in my head. I guess I want to know if I have a family? Am I married? Do I have kids?"

Gibbs shook his head, "Nope, no family. Not married, never have been. No kids. Well none that you are aware of." Gibbs smiled but he noted that Tony looked almost sad at the news.

"Oh, how about my parents? Brothers? Sisters?"

"You have a father, lives up in New York. Your mother died when you were young, you were eight I think. Only child."

"How did she die?"

"I don't know. You never told me."

He mulled that information over for a while before finally asking his next questions, "You said I work as a Federal Agent. How long have I worked here?"

"Coming up to fourteen years."

"Here?"

Gibbs nodded, "Yep, you have worked for me the whole time here at NCIS."

A small frown crossed Tony's brow but then he asked another question, one that had been bothering him, "So I have been missing for what … a month now? Why didn't you report me missing; or my father or _somebody?_ "

Gibbs shoulders slumped, "That's my fault. We were told you had been killed and your body dumped. Broke rule eight."

Tony quirked and eyebrow, "Rule eight?"

"Never assume. The men who attacked you told us, that you were dead and … we believed them. Spent a week digging through a garbage dump looking for your body. Missed a piece of evidence because we assumed it was blood left by them and not you." Gibbs had gotten up and started pacing in front of Tony as he spoke. Now he stopped and turned to Tony, "I stuffed up and … and we wasted so much time mourning your death instead of looking for you. I'm my fault, I'm sorry Tony."

Something about hearing the word 'sorry' coming from this man's lips made Tony feel uncomfortable, like it was something he would never expect this man to say, although he had no idea why. "That's Ok I guess. I'm here now."

Just then Ducky walked back in with a plastic wrapped sandwich and a pot of tea and its paraphernalia on a silver tray. "Sorry it's not much but it was all I could get at short notice. We will arrange a more substantial meal for you later, Anthony."

"That's fine Ducky, I had breakfast this morning so I'm not too hungry."

"Where did you stay last night? Gibbs and the team were out all night looking for you at the shelters but you weren't at any of them," Ducky asked as he poured the dark tea into a cup and added milk and sugar, just the way Tony liked it.

"I stayed with Gus, Gus who drives a bus," Tony laughed when he saw a look pass between the two men, obviously thinking amnesia wasn't the only mental issue he now possessed. "Gus was a bus driver who was kind enough to give me a free ride yesterday, and after I told him my story, he also gave me a place to stay and a decent meal. He also drove me to the navy yard this morning. Good guy."

"Yes, he sounds like a good man indeed."

"Sounds to me like you met a lot of good people along the way," Gibbs added. "Speaking of which, there is a woman in Seattle who is worried sick about you. Would you like to call Claire and let her know you are safe?"

In all the excitement Tony had almost forgotten about Claire and how worried she must have been. "I would like that very much."

Gibbs handed him the phone and he and Ducky left to give Tony some privacy so he could speak to his friend.

"I dropped into Abigail's lab whilst I was scrounging up the food for Anthony and they are all there now. They are, understandably, very keen to be reunited with their friend."

"I bet they are. Do you think he is up for it?" Gibbs asked, still concerned for Tony.

"I will ask him but I think he should be OK. I would suggest just one or two at a time rather than all of them at once."

"Ok."

The two friends remained silent for a moment, listening to the murmur of Tony on the phone to Claire through the closed door. The emotion of the reunion was evident even with a quarter inch of steel between them and the conversation.

Ducky turned to Gibbs again, "I am curious Jethro, what exactly was said between you and Anthony?"

"He looked at me and said, "You know me don't you?"; I said "I do" and then he asked "Who am I?"" Gibbs paused, struggling with the emotion his reunion with Tony brought up. "I told him he was Tony DiNozzo, a federal agent, and that he was home now." Gibbs shrugged, "That was it, until we came inside."

Ducky nodded, not surprised the conversation was so short.

They noticed that the conversation inside had stopped so Ducky opened the door and saw that the conversation was over, and Tony was obviously very emotional, but happy.

"Everything ok with your friend?" Ducky asked when he and Gibbs re-entered autopsy.

Tony wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and smiled, "Yeah, all good. Although she did threaten to kill me herself if I ever pulled a stunt like that again."

"Well, you are quite adept at pulling a stunt or two, and as the last couple of days proved, you are also quite capable of looking after yourself in dire situations. But you are home among friends now." He placed his hand on Tony's should and gave a squeeze, "Speaking of friends, there are still quite a few people waiting oh so patiently to see you Anthony. Do you think you are up to seeing them?"

Tony's head was spinning with everything that was happening but he was also so keen to meet these people and see if any of them sparked his memory. "Sure, why not."

"Why not indeed."

Gibbs pulled out his phone and called someone, "McGee, you can all come down but maybe just one or two at a time." He snapped his phone shut and a couple of minutes later they heard the bing of the elevator and the hiss as the autopsy doors slid open.

Two men walked into autopsy, one white man with glasses, dressed in scrubs, the other an African American man in a tailored suit.

Again, as with his meeting with Gibbs, Tony's body responded to these men, both in slightly different ways. The first man made Tony feel happy, like he expected to laugh when he saw him, but he also very protective towards him. He felt like he was very fond of this man but was almost embarrassed to admit how much he liked him, like if a jock at school was secretly friends with the biggest nerd at the school. He felt ashamed of himself for feeling that way.

"Hi Tony," the nervous man said stepping forward with his hand extended for him to shake, "I'm Jimmy … Jimmy Palmer, I work with Dr Mallard here in autopsy."

Tony looked at his extended hand and extended his own as if to shake it, but instead pulling Jimmy in for a hug. Jimmy squealed in surprise, but the smile on his face when he pulled back spoke volumes. Obviously he was surprised but very pleased at Tony's open show of friendliness. Again, Tony felt a stab of guilt that such a simple act caused so much happiness for the younger man. He didn't understand why he had been so reserved in their friendship, but he certainly intended to change that from now on.

He turned his attention to the other man who had been watching the exchange between Palmer and Tony with surprise and interest.

Once again Tony listened to what his gut had to say about this man.

They were not what Tony would call friends; there was definitely respect and admiration there, but also maybe a feeling of nervousness and awkwardness. He liked him and trusted him, but he felt like that trust had been a long time coming. When he extended his hand for a shake, Tony did not return it with a hug.

"Good to have you back Agent DiNozzo, I'm Director Vance, and I want to you know that myself and the resources of NCIS are at your disposal to aid in your recovery."

The speech felt formal but not surprising. "Thank you sir, I appreciate that."

"I have also called your father and let him know you are safe. He is going to catch the next plane down, he should be here later tonight."

"Thank you."

Tony's headache was starting to return and he was almost ready to stop there for now but the ding of the elevator and the swoosh of the door brought two more visitors.

This time it was a blonde woman and another man both of whom Tony instantly felt were very close friends. The woman stepped forward first holding out her arms for a hug, "Hi Tony, you have no idea how good it is to have you back." She hugged him tightly before stepping back, "I'm Ellie Bishop. We work together on Gibb's team."

She stepped back and the other man took her place, he seemed almost afraid, but Tony felt that this was not unusual for this man to be like that. He felt a sense of family again, as he had with Gibbs and Ducky, but also grudging respect, almost like a younger brother who had grown out of his older brother's shadow. "Hey Tony, I'm Timothy McGee, I am a member of the MCRT and have been part of the team for eleven years now. We have worked together for all of the eleven years. Umm … I'm thirty-eight, enjoy computers and computer games …"

Tony heard Ducky chuckle beside him, "It's not a job interview Timothy. Give him a hug!"

McGee looked around and noted everyone smiling at his discomfort, "Right, yeah of course," he reached over and gave Tony a hug holding him a little longer than expected showing everyone how much he had actually missed him, "Good to have you back Tony."

"Good to be back Timothy McGee."

Tim stepped back and smiled but he had to admit to himself he was disappointed at not receiving one of those awful (yet strangely missed) McNicknames.

Once again he heard the now familiar sound of the elevator and the sliding door.

Tony looked up to see a beautiful black haired woman in a tiny skirt, spiky dog collar and tattoos, but rather than feel surprised at her unusual attire, all he could see was her beautiful eyes, and that smile that he knew belonged to someone he loved like a sister. Her name was a mystery but her presence was welcome. She moved slowly towards him, her hands clenched together over her heart, almost as if he was a timid creature that would skitter if she made any sudden move, "Tony, do you know who I am?" tears twinkling in her eyes.

Tony too felt the sting of tears but he offered her a smile, "I don't know your name, but I know _you_. I know … I know you're my friend and that I've missed you."

With that Abby launched herself at Tony enveloping him in her arms, head tucked into his neck and the tears freely flowed from both of them. Ducky too felt the emotion of the reunion and Gibbs noticed him remove his glasses and wipe away a tear as well. Gibbs was not untouched by the scene in front of him and when he cleared his throat and turned away Ducky suspected he too, may be struggling to maintain his usual composure.

Tony was the first to speak again wiping his tears with the back of his hand, "I still don't know your name."

Abby pulled back to look at Tony, arms still wrapped around his chest and laughed, "I'm Abby, pleased to meet you," and once again tucked back in for a full cuddle. Eventually Abby untangled herself but only long enough to move to Tony's side and held onto his arm with both of hers, Ducky suspected that Abby had no intention of letting Tony go ever again. He also realised; and judging by the looks on the others they realised too; that this Tony was not the brash, seemingly confident and emotionally guarded man they knew. This Tony was raw, emotional and vulnerable, unable to hide emotions he would normally never show to anyone, not even his closest friends.

Again Tony's head was swimming with all these new names and soon, it wasn't just his head, it was the room. The voices in the room started to sound far away, and muffled … he knew what was coming but he couldn't stop it, he started to fall and heard someone yell out "catch him," then the rest of the world disappeared.


	21. Chapter 21

**AN: Here is the next chapter. Sorry it is a little later than usual but I have had a busy morning at work. Hope you like it.**

 **Chapter 21:**

Gibbs had been standing near the wall of autopsy, watching the reunions with Tony taking place. The physical distance allowing him more of an emotional distance as well. He remained an observer, watching as each person introduced themselves and, more interestingly, watching as Tony reacted to their presence. He said he had no memory of anyone, but his reactions showed other wise. Names could be learnt, memories retold, but that feeling of love, trust and respect … Tony still had that, still reacted to each member as Gibbs would expect him to with no memory loss. Although, he was surprised at the way Tony initiated a hug with Palmer. He always suspected they had a closer friendship than Tony had let on, seems like he was right.

Just before Abby entered, Gibbs noted Tony shake his head and wipe his brow, his eyes squinting against what Gibbs assumed was another headache. Anyone else who wanted to meet Tony would just have to wait. Dorneget was the only one from the team not here yet, but he and Tony had not really worked with each other that much so hopefully he would understand when Gibbs called a halt to the happy reunion party.

After Abby's emotionally charged reunion with Tony, Gibbs had decided Tony had had enough and pushed off the wall but just as he did so he noted Tony start to sway and his head start to fall backwards.

Abby had noticed too and was calling his name, "Tony, what's wrong. Tony answer me."

He heard Ducky exclaim from beside him "Oh dear!" and he also leapt forward just as Tony started to fall backwards.

"Catch him!" Gibbs yelled, too far away to get to him himself but thankfully Palmer and McGee both managed to grab hold before Tony's head impacted the cold hard concrete floor.

Tony started to convulse, his arms held ridged beside his body, his hands clenched tight, his head thrown back so his shoulders were actually being held off the ground.

"Help me roll him on his side McGee," Palmer directed the other agent. "Can someone get something to put under his head, a pillow, sheet, anything so he doesn't hit his head," he screamed while he held Tony's head up of the concrete floor.

"Oh my god! What's happening?" Abby screamed. Bishop came over and they both clung to each other as they watched Tony on the floor, his body spasming.

Gibbs took of his jacket and rolled it up, placing it under Tony's head and Palmer gently lay Tony's head on it.

Ducky had joined Jimmy on the floor beside their friend, while everyone else stepped back to give the two medico's room.

After what seemed like an eternity, but was in reality only forty seconds or so, Tony's body relaxed and his limbs lost their rigidity. "Please check his breathing Mr Palmer," Ducky asked the younger man.

Palmer leaned in to Tony's mouth listening for breath sounds, "Strong and regular breath sounds Doctor."

"What just happened Duck?" Gibbs asked, now standing over the three men on the ground.

"I'm afraid he had had a mild seizure. Not surprising considering his medicine irregularities. But he should be just fine when he wakes up."

"That was mild?" McGee asked.

"Why yes, it lasted less than a minute, the spasms were minor and his breathing has returned immediately."

"But he had his medicine Duck, we saw him take it." Gibbs said, not understanding how these convulsions came on.

"Unfortunately, this is a slow release medication. It is designed to release small amounts throughout the day to maintain an even continuous dosage in his system. As he has skipped a couple of his doses over the last days this amount has dropped causing his seizure."

"Is he going to be ok?" Abby asked, still clinging to Bishop.

"He should be fine my dear, a little dopey and a little achy but there shouldn't be any major issues."

"Will he still remember us?" Bishop asked.

"He may miss a few minutes or might struggle with our names when he wakes up but I don't imagine it will be anything too serious."

"He's coming around Dr Mallard," Palmer advised, having been keeping a watchful eye on his friend while Ducky filled everyone else in on what was happening.

They looked down to see Tony's eyes fluttering. He seemed to be having trouble keeping them open. "Anthony, are you with us my boy. Can you open your eyes?"

Tony muttered something that could have been words but it was another minute or so before he was fully aware of his surroundings. He managed to mutter something but the only distinguishable syllable was "Wha…"

"You had a seizure I'm afraid. Not to bad though. How are you feeling?"

Tony still was too dopey to respond but shook his head indicating he wasn't feeling very well at all.

Ducky looked up at Gibbs, "We really should move him to a more comfortable place. He is likely to sleep for quite a while after this."

"He can sleep on the futon in my lab," Abby offered.

"Yes, that sounds like a good idea. Mr Palmer, do you think you and Timothy can managed to get him up to Abigail's lab?"

"Shouldn't be a problem Doctor."

Jimmy and McGee both grabbed one of Tony's arms each and lifted him into a standing position. Tony was still quite groggy but managed to put one foot in front of the other while the two men held his weight between them. They along with Abby and Bishop, took Tony up to Abby's lab to sleep off the adverse effects the seizure had on his body.

Gibbs, Vance and Ducky remained, Vance the first to break the silence, "Are these seizures going to be a permanent issue with him Dr Mallard?"

"That is uncertain I am afraid Director. Speaking to Dr Petersen he indicated that it could go either way. I would suggest that we get Anthony under the care of a neurologist as soon as possible. I have a few contacts that can point us to the best doctor. Unfortunately with the type of TBI he received, they could very well be something he has to deal with for the rest of his life, or… it could just as easy be something that heals itself in time."

"If it does _heal itself_ , how long before he would be able to work again?" Gibbs asked.

"Well if you are talking about field work, his medication would need to be controlling his seizures completely and he would need to be seizure free for a year before he would be allowed back into the field. But if he was to return to work … and that is a big _if_ Jethro … then there is no reason why he couldn't perform some sort of desk job in the meantime and work towards his field qualifications in the meantime. Honestly though, I'm not even sure he would want to. His life has had a major upheaval and he will be expending so much of his energy just trying to get back into a normal life."

"Yes, and his normal life includes work. You know as well as I do that if Tony doesn't work he will go insane. Sitting at a desk shuffling papers will have the same effect," Gibbs said, frustrated by the fact he may never have his number two by his side again.

"Well I don't see any alternative I'm afraid," Vance offered. "Considering he received his injury while he was on assignment for NCIS, he will be able to claim a full disability pension for the rest of his life. He may not even remember anything about his job, he might even have to go back for basic training. And that is assuming he even wants to come back. Even after any retraining he would still need to pass psych evals and physical training and there would probably be many restriction placed on him if his condition is an ongoing issue ... I just am not sure if he can do it."

"It will be interesting to see how much he can still do. You see he has no memory but he still knows what he has learnt. They are controlled by two different parts of his mind. It will definitely be interesting to see what, if anything, he had retained of his job. But as for field work … there is a long road ahead of him I'm afraid."

Gibbs knew they were right, but it still pissed him off.


	22. Chapter 22

**AN: Here is the next chapter. I am interested i seeing what you all think about it as I have written Tony very raw and with no memories of his past so he now no longer has the walls and guards up he used to and he is confused about the way he used to live his life. Let me know how this works for you.**

 **Chapter 22:**

Tony woke to sounds of machines whirring, computers beeping and the smell of cleanliness, which reminded him of waking up in hospital. He also realised that this was the first time he had a memory to be "reminded" of something. He kept his eyes shut, knowing that as soon as he woke he would probably be inundated with is "friends" wanting to talk and tell him things but he just felt too overwhelmed at the moment. He just wanted to keep his eyes closed and work through everything that had happened so far today.

In only a matter of hours he had gone from being alone, wandering the streets, to being surrounded by friends and being taken in and cared for. And it was his friends that had him feeling so … conflicted.

He had no memory of these people, he didn't recognise their faces, didn't know their names, didn't have any memories of ever being with them but he _knew_ them. He knew he cared for them; hell even loved most of them. Knew they could be trusted, knew they would look out for him and protect him. It was just such a strange feeling. With Claire he met her, grew to trust her and knows the reason she is such a loyal friend. With these people it wasn't like that. It was so strange to feel so strongly for people he didn't know. He just wished he could unlock the door that was blocking his memories from filling in the blanks. He wanted to know why he was so trustful of them. Wanted to know what experiences they had shared that caused them to be like family. He just wanted … to be normal. But he wasn't, and he probably never would be.

"I know you're awake Tony," he heard a female voice say.

"How do you know that?" he asked, still not willing to open his eyes and face this new, no strike that, _old_ life just yet.

"Your foot is jiggling. You jiggle when you are nervous or anxious," she answered and he felt a puff of wind as she sat down beside him.

He finally opened his eyes and looked up at the face of … he wanted to say Annie. "I do do I?"

She smiled and nodded her head, "How are you feeling?"

"You mean besides nervous or anxious?"

She laughed and it sounded so familiar, "Yes Tony besides that."

He lifted himself up and pushed back until he was leaning against the wall and … Amy?... moved over to sit beside him, shoulders touching but that was all. "I'm Ok I guess. Head aches and I feel like throwing up a bit but nothing new when I have a seizure." He looked around the room he was in. He had been lying on a futon mattress on the concrete floor of what appeared to be a laboratory. Night had fallen and he saw feet passing by the small arched windows above his head. He saw through a glass partition to his left a smaller room with pictures of guns on the wall and on the right was another larger room with more machines and gadgets in it. In this room was a desk with a computer and few other technical gadgets that he was pretty sure he didn't know how to use even with all his faculties.

"Have you had many?" she asked, concern so obvious on her face he just wanted to assure her he was fine.

"I had a couple when Dr Petersen was adjusting my medication but not too many. Just enough to know I will feel pretty yuck for the next day."

Abby … yep that was it. Abby lay her head on his shoulder, an action that felt both strange having someone he didn't know be so intimate, but also so comforting in that it felt like something they did a hundred times before. "I hate that you have to go through this. And I hate the men who did this to you. I just want to go up to them and grab them and punch and kick them …"

Tony placed his hand on her leg to calm her. "I know. Me too." He laid his head on top of hers and they both remained silent for a few moments working through their emotions of the situation.

Abby lifted her head and wiped away a tear, "So, you must have questions? What do you want to know? Ask me anything."

"Ok, how did we meet?"

"Oh that's a good story. We met here actually," she turned her body and pointed to the larger room beside them, "right in there. It was November 2001 and it was your first day and I did _not_ like you."

Tony smiled, "You didn't?"

"Nope. Not at first. I thought you were too good looking to be anything but a show pony and a player. And you were bought in after my best friend Stan Burley left so as far as I was concerned you could never be as good as Stan so I just wouldn't give you the time of day. You kept trying to make me laugh but I wasn't giving you anything. I'm sorry I did that to you."

"What changed?"

"I found out you had moved away from home and your fiancé to take the job and you had been living in this awful dingy hotel until the wedding and you were all alone. I guess I started to feel sorry for you."

Tony's heart leapt in his chest, excited at the possibility that he had someone out there who he loved, "Fiancé? I was married, Gibbs said …"

"Oh no, you didn't get married. She ended up breaking it off the night before the wedding."

"She did?" He was surprised at how disappointed he was at this news. "Why?"

"I don't know. You never told us. In fact you never spoke about her again. Not until she turned up out of the blue one day."

"When was that?"

"Umm, a few years ago. You were not happy about it but I think you guys must have gotten over it because you dated her again for a couple of weeks but then she was gone again and you just said it didn't feel right anymore."

"Huh! What was her name, this fiancé slash ex slash girlfriend slash ex again?"

"Wendy."

Tony nodded, taking in the information but not getting any sense of memory from the story. Ever since he had woken up he had felt like he had wanted to have a family out there looking for him. When he found out he not only had no family but had never even been married, he had felt … deflated. It was something he obviously had craved but had never achieved. He wondered why? "So any other ex fiancés I need to know about?"

Abby hesitated, "Not fiancés but there were a couple of other … women in your life but they were so complicated I think we need a lot more time to go through that, and that is just the stuff I know about which is like this tiny weeny part of the story, most of which I had to work out for myself. I think I would need McGee to help me out with that."

"Help you out with what?" said McGee himself as he stepped into the room.

"Telling Tony about his love life," Abby said as she sprung up from the ground.

McGee's face showed he was not exactly excited about that proposition, in fact he looked downright disgusted by the thought, "How could I help with that. Tony isn't exactly an open book when it comes to that stuff." McGee seem to remember that Tony was actually in the same room as them, "No offence, I mean I would happily tell you, but I don't really know too much. You sort of keep that stuff to yourself. I mean I could probably tell you about nearly any woman you dated and took to bed but if you actually liked them … then you were a vault. Sorry."

Tony looked up at the younger man and shrugged, "No need to apologise. I guess if they never went anywhere they probably aren't worth remembering." He noticed a look pass between Abby and McGee and thought they obviously through differently. He was too tired to press them though. All he wanted to do was go … somewhere into a real bed and sleep for the next 48 hours and allow his mind to process the day so far.

"Gibbs sent me down to see if you were ready to go home," McGee said. He had not come any closer to Tony since walking into the room and Tony had the distinct feeling that Tom didn't really want to be here.

"Sure Tom, home sounds good I guess," Tony said struggling to stand up.

McGee finally moved over and helped Tony up, "It's Tim, not Tom."

"Wow, sorry Tim, still a little confused I guess," Tony said finally standing on his own.

"That's OK Tony. I am sure you have a lot of stuff going on in there," McGee said, again moving away from Tony now that he was sure he was Ok to stand on his own. "You seem to be … you now … struggling I guess. It must be a lot to take in."

Tony nodded, tears once again coming to the surface. Tim noticed the tears but instead of giving any sort of comfort he looked anywhere but at Tony and shuffled his feet as if he was ready to flee. Tom … _Tim_ was obviously uncomfortable with the whole situation.

Tony knew he had to try and get these emotions under control. He knew he was an emotional person but he also felt that he was a _privately_ emotional person. And judging by the look on Tim's face, he assumed Tim also wished he would get himself under control.

"Sure home sounds good. I'm kind of curious to see what my place is like," he said as he started towards the door.

Tim and Abby followed and then they escorted Tony out of the building to Gibbs who was waiting for them next to a car. Tony looked the car over and nodded his head in approval, "Nice car."

"Thought you'd like it. It's yours," he responded.

Tony looked the car over again, "This is mine?"

"Yep, 1974 Pontiac Firebird Esprit, just like Jim Rockford used to drive," Abby supplied.

"Who's that? Another agent?" Tony asked frowning.

Gibbs laughed, "No some sort of TV person I think. You were always talking about movies and TV. Drove me mad sometimes."

McGee pipped up, "You love your classic cars. You told me once that picking a car is like committing to a woman, you need to be in love with it first."

Tony couldn't help realise that he obviously found loving a car easier than loving a woman. "So can I drive it?" he asked hopefully.

"Considering you just woke up from having a seizure I am going to say no. You will need a medical clearance before you will be allowed behind the wheel of a vehicle. Get in."

Abby stepped up, "Can I come too Gibbs?"

Gibbs looked over at Tony, "Up to him."

Tony shrugged, he actually liked having this woman around, "Sure why not."

She jumped up and down and clapped her hands, "Yay, come on McGee."

"Um, actually I still have some work to do so I'm just going to stay here if that's OK," McGee said, hands in pocket shuffling slightly from one foot to the other.

Tony could tell he was making Tom … Tim uncomfortable and he couldn't blame him. He obviously was not the man he used to be, how could he be, and Tim was still mourning that man's loss. All he was now was a shell of a man. He hoped Tim would eventually feel more comfortable around him because he knew they had been close before. Brothers practically, but he also knew there was nothing he could really do to help, he didn't know anything about Tim as they currently stand. Again, he was struck by how much it hurt him to have someone he didn't know feel this way towards him. Hopefully time would heal their friendship, even if it didn't heal him.

Abby climbed into the back seat and Tony into the passenger seat and Gibbs started the car and pulled out of the car space, Tim waved goodbye and turned to walk back into the building. Abby leaned forward and put her hand on Tony's shoulder, "He'll come around, he's just not sure how to deal with all this yet, that's all."

The rest of the trip was in relative silence, Tony was still suffering the aftermath of the seizure he had had, Abby was just so happy to have Tony back she just watched him from the back seat, and Gibbs was concentrating on not driving like a lunatic and freaking his already fragile passenger out.

"Do you recognise anything?" Gibbs asked at one stage but Tony, who was leaning against the headrest watching the world go by shook his head.

"No, not exactly, but if feels familiar. It's kind of like continuous déjà vu."

Eventually the ride came to an end not far from Georgetown when Gibbs pulled up out the front of a row of townhouses. He pointed up at one in particular and said, "That's you."

Tony looked up at the window and at the other houses in the area. He may not have anything by way of memory but he knew when he was in a swanky area, "I live here?"

Gibbs nodded and Abby leant forward to look as well.

"Do I have money?" he asked.

"You're family was rich, well you think they were rich but your dad kind of blew it all somehow and I don't think you actually got any from him."

"So how did I afford this then?" Abby shrugged indicating that she didn't know.

"You bought at a good time, before the boom," Gibbs said.

"Oh, OK, I guess that explains it then." Tony said as he climbed out of the car.

"Yeah, but it doesn't explain that four other properties you have," Gibbs said as he started across the road leaving a stunned Tony behind.

Abby grabbed his hand and pulled him across with her, "Yeah that was a surprise to all of us when we found that out."

"Wait I own four properties? How the hell did that happen?"

"Five including this one," Gibbs corrected him, "you were more property savvy than any of us realised."

They made there way up the front stairs and entered the foyer of his apartment building. While the façade out the front showed four federation style townhouses, inside was a modern building spanning all four frontages, with a modern foyer with comfortable couches and lush rugs, an elevator in the centre and an apartment on either side of the foyer. They entered the lift and went up one floor. Tony looked around again getting that déjà vu feeling again, they came and stood at the door of an apartment and Gibbs fished out the keys. He felt Abby squeeze his hand and when the door opened he took a deep breath and stepped inside.

It looked … almost exactly as he expected it to. The colour was how he imagined, the furnishings were right, but there was something not quite as he would have thought. He walked around the lounge room and through one of the French doors into the dining room. He peered into the kitchen but returned back to the lounge room. Gibbs and Abby were both standing just inside the door, observing him as he took in his home.

Gibbs must have noticed the frown on his face, "Not what you were expecting DiNozzo?" he asked.

"I was surprised the first time I saw this place too, Tony," Abby chimed in as well. "I certainly didn't think you would live in a place like this. I was so surprised when I came in after … well after we thought … you know."

Tony stopped and looked at her, "You hadn't seen it before then?" he asked genuinely surprised. "So did I just recently move in or something?" He asked. It felt like he had been here for a long time but maybe that was why he bought it, that would also explain why he felt something was … missing.

"No, you moved in just after you moved to Washington in 2001."

Tony shook his head confused, "So I have live here for what, fourteen years, and you had never been here before I went missing?"

Abby shook her head, "No, you were kind of really private about your place. Called it your ' _sanctuary'_ so you didn't really like it when people came over. I think McGee saw it last year, or the year before didn't he?" She asked turning to Gibbs.

Gibbs looked at them both and frowned, "I don't know, I don't follow who goes where with who."

"'Whom'," Tony said absently. "Where are the pictures?" He said before either Gibbs or Abby could react to Tony correcting Gibbs grammar.

"What pictures?" Abby asked, thinking that he was remembering something specific. "Do you remember something?" she asked hopefully.

Tony spun around, " _Any_ pictures!" He said almost angrily. "Where are the photos, the snapshots, artwork, anything … _personal!_ " He looked at his companions, "Did you take them out or something?"

Abby and Gibbs looked at each other, almost worried that he was going to work himself up. "You didn't have any photos Tony," Abby said as she came over to stand next to her friend and held his arm. "Did you remember some photos or something?" she asked confused.

"No, I don't _remember_ photos, I don't remember _anything!_ But what sort of person lives in a house for fourteen years and doesn't have at least some photos?" Tony was starting to get louder as his frustration bought on his anger.

Gibbs walked over to the mantle and retrieved a small photo in a frame and handed it to Tony, "You have this one."

Tony took the photo and looked at it. It was a blonde woman in her late twenties or early thirties and a blonde haired boy who was maybe seven and both were standing on a busy street somewhere. "Who is it?" he asked.

Again, Gibbs and Abby looked at each other, "I'm not sure," Abby said, "but I processed an old roll of film for you a few years ago and this was one of the photos on it. I think it might be your mom and you."

Tony humphed, "You _think_ , but you don't _know?_ "

Abby shook her head she was starting to become upset for Tony. Tony put the photo back and walked into the dining area where there was one seat pulled up to the small table, which had on it files in neat piles, open text books, notepad and a laptop. Its companion was pushed up against the wall loaded with more boxes and files and looked like they had been there for possibly fourteen years too. He moved into the kitchen and noted how incredibly neat and clean it was. Almost clinically clean. Again, no photos posted to the fridge door with magnets, in fact there weren't even any magnets. He actually felt a pang of sadness that there weren't any child like pictures of rainbows or stick drawings with a child's writing stating 'my family' with the obligatory yellow sun in the corner and the line of blue above indicating the sky.

He walked over to the door beside the kitchen and opened it onto a powder room and toilet. He retreated and returned to the lounge room. Meanwhile, Abby was trailing behind while Gibbs remained in one of the doors between the lounge and dining area. From the lounge room he opened the other door into what must be the bedroom but, instead of seeing the expected luxurious king size bed, he saw a small, dark single bed. He stopped and stared.

"Is this a joke," he asked swinging around to stare at Gibbs.

"Is what a joke Tony?" he asked calmly, also concerned at how agitated Tony appeared to be getting as he familiarised himself with his home.

"This … _bed!"_ he spat. "Are you seriously telling me that I sleep in this thing?"

Gibbs squinted, taking in everything and thinking about the best way to handle the situation, a situation he quite frankly didn't understand. "As far as I know you did. I haven't touched a thing in here. It is exactly as you left it when you went to Seattle."

"And that's another thing, why was I even _in_ Seattle?"

"A temporary opening came up and you thought it would be a good time to get away."

"'Get away?'" he noted, "Why did I need to _get away?"_ he asked them. He put his hand up to his head and rubbed his temples. His headache was coming a back and it was going to be a doozy. Gibbs noted Tony's movements and moved towards him.

"Why don't you come and sit down and take a moment Tony. This is obviously overwhelming for you and you have a lot of questions, but I think you need to rest right now. Do you need one of your painkillers?" Gibbs had taken Tony by the elbow and manoeuvred him over to the leather couch while he talked.

Tony sighed and sat down at one end placed his elbow on the armrest and rested his head in his hand. "Yeah, I think I do, they are in the side pocket of my bag."

Abby went into the kitchen and fetched a glass of water while Gibbs fished out the packet of headache tablets.

Gibbs handed Tony the tables and he swallowed them down with the water Abby gave him.

"Feeling better?" Abby asked after a minute.

"Not really, tablets take a while to kick in," he responded.

"No, I mean about this," she swept her arms around the room, "You seemed really upset."

Tony once again couldn't stop the now familiar sting of tears in his eyes, but he didn't even bother trying to stop then from falling. He finally shrugged, "I guess it just isn't what I was hoping my life was, you know. I have fantasied about my family, my home, my life … and to come back and find out I have no family, a house but not a home and a life so secret that the only people who care for me … who are only work colleagues by the way… have no idea what happened beyond the walls of NCS… whatever the hell it is called! I just get the feeling that I am not a really nice guy. I am not surprised I don't have any family … it appears I don't even like myself, so why would anyone else." Tony wiped his eyes and looked away, "I guess it's just a little disappointing that's all."

Abby slid onto the couch beside him and gave him a hug. "So we don't know why you have a single bed, and we don't know much about your personal life… what we do know is _you!_

 _"You_ Tony DiNozzo, are an amazing human being. You are smart, kind, funny and so very, very, loyal. You would take a bullet for _any_ of us and that is not just a saying, that is _fact!"_

She placed her head on his chest and put her arms around his waist and gave him a hug so tight and so fierce it ached, but he didn't want her to stop.

There came a knock at the door. Gibbs went to answer it, glad for an excuse to get away from all the touchy feelies happenng between Abby and Tony. He was grateful he bought Abby because it had just been him, he had no idea how he would have dealt with the situation.

He opened to door to find what Tony had been complaining about not having, only to realise that maybe he may not be so happy to have this one here.

"The director told me you found him. Where is he? Where is my son?"


	23. Chapter 23

**AN: So we are about to meet Senior and I have been so conflicted about his character since he was introduced. The Senior Tony used to talk about in the early seasons was obviously an a**hole and they started out that way when RJ came on board but now with this whole "love you dad" "love you son" and the dad is a rascal kind of way they have gone is a bit annoying. I think both Michael and RJ would have had such amazing acting opportunities if they had explored that original version than this rapscallion version we have seen. However, the one we have is cannon so I am kind of sticking to that version but hinting at his lack of decent parenting. Hope you like it.**

 **Chapter 23:**

Tony DiNozzo Sr pushed past Gibbs and into the living room. "Oh my God, Junior, you are alive."

Tony stood up from the couch and looked at this man before him. He could see the family resemblance, could see the tears brimming in the older man's eyes, but his reaction was not what he was expecting considering this was his only relative. Yes he felt the familiar tug of love and affection towards this man as he had with his friends, but it was tempered with something. There was love but there was also … trepidation? caution? and maybe even a touch of fear?

His father enveloped him into a hug murmuring how happy he was to see him, how glad he was alive, how upset he had been when he had been told the news of his death, but the whole time Tony was busy trying to work out these confusing feelings that contradicted each other at every moment.

He pushed Tony back and held him by his shoulders, "Let me look at you Junior."

Tony looked at Gibbs over his father's shoulder and could see a slight frown on his face. Did Gibbs feel the same way he did about this man in front of him?

"You look a bit skinner, but we can fix that up with a bit of home cooking. And what about your memory? Surely you remember your old man, don't you?" He looked at Tony almost as if he expected all of Tony's memories to come flooding back now that he was there.

"Ah, no, sorry, can't say that I do. Why do you call me Junior?" Tony asked the older man.

"You are joking right? I've called you Junior since the day you were born. You were named after me, I'm Anthony DiNozzo too … the original Tony so you are Junior." He shook Tony gently by the shoulders. "Come on son, think! You have to remember me, I'm your father! You're only family member. Think!"

Tony shook his head, "I'm sorry, but I can't. My doctor doesn't think I will ever remember … I'm sorry."

"Well, we will see about that. I think having me around … and your friends as well, of course," he said acknowledging Abby and Gibbs since they were in the room, "… will dust out those pipes. You and I will be reminiscing about the fun we've had in no time son …no time at all." Again he gently shook Tony as he spoke, almost hoping to physically jar his brain into function again.

"A.D. how about you come in the kitchen with me and help work out this fancy coffee machine," Gibbs said, trying to extricate Tony from his father.

"What, I want to talk to Junior, surely you can work it out Gibbs," he turned to Gibbs but judging by the look on his face, Gibbs was not in the mood to be trifled with. "Ok, then, coffee does sound good. I'll be back Junior, just keep trying to remember me OK."

"Gee, ' _try to remember something_ ' that's good advice, I hadn't thought of that!" Tony said bitterly, the anger is never far from the surface.

Tony Senior followed Gibbs into the kitchen and started going through the cupboards, "There is some coffee here but who knows how old it is. We could have instant I suppose. Is there any milk? I know you don't have milk but Junior likes it."

"Forget the damn coffee A.D. What do you think you were doing in there?"

Senior looked at Gibbs perplexed, the same look Tony gives Gibbs when he is pulled up over something he didn't realise he had done. "I was greeting my only child, who until only mere hours ago, I believed was _dead_!"

"I understand this must be overwhelming, but you can't just shake the memories from him. In fact you shouldn't shake him at all; he has a head injury. He just had a seizure a few hours ago."

"I didn't … that! That wasn't a shake it was a … nudge," he saw Gibbs glare again, "OK, you are right, I won't do that again. It's just such a relief to see him again. Did you say he had a seizure?" Tony's father asked, sinking into one of the stools next to the kitchen bench. "Is he OK?"

Gibbs shrugged, "You should probably talk to Ducky but he seems OK now. But these seizures are something he might have to deal with for the rest of his life."

The two men sat in silence at the kitchen bench for a few moments.

Finally Senior asked what he was dreading, "Is he ever going to be OK?"

Gibbs looked at him, "That depends on what you consider OK. It's unlikely he will ever get his memories back, but then … maybe without them holding him back he might actually be able to start fresh. Be who he was supposed to be."

"And who exactly is he _supposed_ to be Agent Gibbs? Is Tony not enough for you the way he is?"

Gibbs looked at him with his cold blue eyes, "You know that is not what I am talking about. You and I both know that Tony has had a hard life up to now, being disappointed and let down by those he most trusts, feeling like he never quite lived up to expectations, hiding behind the mask of a clown rather than actually deal with the pain and loss he has suffered."

"Oh and that is all my fault I suppose?"

"Not all yours, but a fare chunk of the pie is yours."

"And you have no responsibility in this I take it Gibbs. You sit here and tell me how Tony needs to let people in, when you; probably the closest person in his _life_ for the last decade or more _;_ wouldn't let someone in if their life depended on it! Including that boy out there! He has looked up to you from the moment he met you, God knows he cast me aside like yesterday's news once you turned up, but when have you ever shown him any affection, treated him like anything other than an annoying puppy that followed you home. You can't lay all of Tony's issues at my feet. Tony may have had some baggage when you met him, and you may not have added to it, but you sure haven't lightened the load either."

"You're right AD, I may not have but at least I have tried. But that is going to change. Tony needs us, _all_ of us. What I need to know is if things get too tough, are you going to be there for him, or are you going to take off to Jamaica or Paris, or god knows where until the coast is clear? Because if you can't do this; if you can't be there to answer his questions _truthfully_ and without your usual DiNozzo spin on it, to help him when he is down and doesn't think he can get back up; then now is your chance to get out. I am not going to let Tony start his new life being let down by the same people who let him down last time."

Anthony DiNozzo Senior stared at Gibbs, his jaw clenched, his body tense, thinking ' _How dare he say these things to me'_ but then he also realised he was right. He had always skipped out on Junior when things got too hard. Taking off after his mother died looking for any business opportunity to take him away from their home while Tony was left behind with Nanny's and household staff dealing with the fall out of his mother's death on his own. Then when he started to act out after a few years, he shipped him off to boarding school and holiday camps, anything to keep that angry young teen away from him, make him someone else's responsibility. When he went off to college he was relieved, Tony was a adult now, able to make his own decisions, live his own life … no longer Senior's responsibility so it wasn't surprising that the phone calls between them became further apart, visits home became practically none existent, as did any semblance of a father-son relationship. He had spent the last six years trying to build up that relationship again, but Tony was a man now, had his own life, Senior was no longer responsible for anything so it had been easier to make amends, to make a relationship out of their tenuous connection.

But now, now Tony would need him, would need Senior to help him join the dots on his old life. Once again Senior would find himself responsible for moulding Tony and his life … could he do that? _Should_ he do that? He had failed before; maybe he would fail again.

"You're right Gibbs, I haven't been there for Tony, I have let him down…" Senior took a big breath and pulled himself up, "… but I won't make that mistake again. I realise I have been a disappointment to Tony …"

"And an ass, don't forget you were an ass," Gibbs pipped in.

"Fine, I was an ass, happy!" Gibbs smiled and nodded. "But I want to do this right. I want to help him. He is my son, and it may have taken me a while to realise what that meant, but I mean it now. I will be here for him no matter how long it takes, or how hard it gets. I promise."

"Good to hear it A.D."

"But you have to make the same promise."

"What are you talking about, I have been out there looking for him from the start!"

"Looking is the easy part Gibbs. But now you have found him. Now comes the hard part, now comes the _talking_ , something that you struggle with too. Are you going to be able to deal with that side of it, keep talking to him even when his emotions get the better of him?"

"Yep!" Gibbs answered mono-sabbatically. His grin gave the game away though.

"I guess we both have some work ahead of us then."

"I guess we do, but it's for a good cause."

"It is," Senior agreed. "So how about that coffee?"

Tony and Abby sat on his couch, listening, as the voices in the kitchen got louder and then quieter again.

"What do you think they are talking about?" Tony asked Abby.

"Well my guess would be you," she answered.

"I know that I mean … what specifically? They sound angry."

"Gibbs and your dad have always had a little tug-of-war over you."

"Really? Why?"

"Well, you and your Dad, you didn't have a great relationship growing up," she saw Tony start to speak, "… and no I don't know why exactly. All I know is that you and he didn't talk for a really … _really_ long time, but that you have both been trying really had over the last few years to work it out."

"Oh, that kind of explains it then."

"Explains what?"

"Why I felt the way I did when I saw him. I kind of felt conflicted. You know how I have these feeling when I meet people, well I had the whole ' _I love this guy_ ' but there was also this … _'but I don't trust him'_ kind of feeling too."

"Well, like I say, you haven't had a great relationship with him until recently, but for what it is worth, I think he has really tried to fix that … you both have. It hasn't always worked out perfectly, but you both want the same thing. A relationship. And Gibbs, well Gibbs has been a papa bear to you since he met you. It's funny because we have always known you and Gibbs have this" she held her hand up and pushed the tips of her fingers together, "connection, kind of like Gibbs and me, but different, more … well more you and Gibbs. Anyway, he may not let on to everyone, but he watches over you. Always has. And when your Dad came back into the picture, he was the one to tell him to act like a dad for once. Told him what he was missing out on, what a great guy you are. He has kept the two of you on the right path, and kept you separated when needed, but he will always do what is best for _you_. So I am thinking he is telling your dad to step up or step off."

"And what do you think he will do?"

"What do you mean?"

"Will he step up … or step off?"

"I don't know, but I hope he steps up."

"Me too."


	24. Chapter 24

**AN: We are getting close to the end now. This is the third last chapter and introduces an old friend. I would ask respectfully that you keep your comments to that of the story and not personal opinions of characters or actors regardless of how strongly you feel about them. Thank you.**

 **Chapter: 24**

Gibbs and Abby had not remained long, deciding it was best for Tony to rest up as Ducky had managed to book an appointment the next day with the leading Neurologist in DC and had also found a Psychiatrist who specialised in TBI. "It isn't just the physical scarring he has to heal, but the emotional too. It is quite obvious his is struggling with that," he had told Gibbs. He knew Tony had seen a psychologist in the past, hell maybe he was still seeing one before he left, so it shouldn't have been surprised when Tony agreed to seeking assistance from a Psychiatrist. He wanted to do anything to get back to some semblance of normal.

Gibbs went home and made a couple of phone calls. There were still some people who needed to know that Tony was home, safe and most importantly no longer dead.

Meanwhile, Tony went to bed in his ridiculously small bed, while his father made his self comfortable on his long leather couch.

He awoke the next morning to the smell of bacon and freshly brewed coffee.

"Ah Junior, there you are, I wasn't sure if I should wake you or not but you only have a few hours until your first appointment. Here, sit, eat," DiNozzo senior couldn't help but notice how he sounded like a typical Italian woman … not unlike his own beloved mother. "So how are you feeling today son?"

Tony chewed on his food before answering, "Not too bad, my headache is better and I don't feel so … tense I guess."

"Good, good. So is there anything you want to ask me about?"

Tony sighed, "Honestly, I have so many questions I don't even know where to start. Besides every time I ask someone all I get is _'I don't know, you never told us'_ and from what Abby told me yesterday, I don't think I would have been very open with you either so …" Tony shrugged and continued eating while his father puttered around the kitchen, taking in what Tony just said trying not to show how much that comment stung.

Before he could respond though, there was a knock at the door. "I'll get that, finish your breakfast Junior."

Tony heard some voices from the lounge room before his father returned to the kitchen followed by Tim.

"Morning Tony, how are you feeling today?" he asked.

"Better, thanks."

Tim stood in the kitchen, still showing discomfort at being with this man who was no longer the man he had known.

"What brings you here Tim?" Tony's father asked, trying to break the uncomfortable silence.

"Oh yeah, right. I came here to give Tony this," he handed Tony a laptop computer.

Tony looked at it, "Ah thanks… I guess."

"Well it's yours and I thought I should bring it back because … well it's yours." Again Tim shuffled uncomfortably. "I mean, I had it because I was looking after all your affairs after … well you know. I didn't mean to pry or anything, it's just that your will left Gibbs in charge of your estate," a humph was heard coming from the direction of Senior, "and most of your finances and things were on your computer and you know how Gibbs is with technology. Actually, I guess you don't know. Well, needless to say he isn't great … in fact he is bad… really, really bad."

Tony smiled, "So what secrets did you find out about me?"

"Oh um, you know … stuff," Tim answered, "I didn't mean to pry."

"You said that already, and it wasn't prying if you thought I was dead."

"I guess not."

"So, anything you can tell me about myself?"

"Well, there is some stuff but maybe I should, you know, tell you in private," Tim said giving a not so subtle glance in the direction of Senior who was now washing up dishes. Tony could infer from Tim's actions that maybe Senior and money were not a good mix. He would have to ask about that later on.

"Ah, Ok then, maybe later then."

"Yep."

Again an awkward silence fell over the two friends but was interrupted by a tune coming from Tony's laptop.

"What's that?" Tony asked as he pulled the computer towards him.

"Sounds like the Skype sound, someone must be calling you."

Tony opened his laptop and saw a string of numbers on his screen. He looked at Tim how shrugged his shoulders indicating he didn't recognise the number either.

"I guess I should answer it."

"I guess so," Tim agreed.

He hit the green answer button and waited for the signal to connect.

When it did Tony felt a leap in his heart when a brown haired, brown eyed, stunningly beautiful woman appeared on his screen. He heard Tim gasp beside him.

"Oh my god Tony, it _is_ you," she leaned in to the screen, looking like she was trying to get a closer look at her end. Her hands clasped over he mouth and tears welled in her eyes.

"Yeah, it's me," he wasn't sure who this woman was, but judging by his reaction when he saw her she was someone very dear to him, but also someone who had hurt him.

"Gibbs called me last night and told me you had been found _alive!_ I mean, I had been told you were dead." He found her accent quite charming.

"Not dead, not all here but not dead."

The woman was still staring at Tony on her screen; so he turned to Tim in confusion.

She must have seen the look pass between them because she started talking again, "Sorry, sorry Gibbs told me about your memory." She took a deep breath, "Tony my name is Ziva."

"Hello Ziva, it's nice to meet you … or see you I guess."

"Hello McGee, it's good to see you too."

"Hi Ziva," Tim replied. It was then that Senior took Tim aside and suggested that they give Tony and Ziva a bit of privacy as they became reacquainted. He had always hoped Tony and Ziva would make a go of it, maybe now was that time.

"So you don't have any memory of me?" she asked him when they were alone.

"No sorry, I don't. I had a sense that I knew you when I saw your face. I kind of get a gut feeling about how I feel about someone when I meet them but I don't remember anything specific about you. Sorry."

"And … how did you feel when you saw me?" she asked.

Tony felt a blush come across his face when he remembered his initial reaction, he cleared his throat, "Um, well … good, I got the feeling I liked you … a lot, but then …"

She quirked an eyebrow, "… but then?"

"But then I felt angry."

"Oh, well I can understand that I suppose," Ziva responded.

"Would you like to fill me in on why you understand that? Because I have _no_ idea."

So Ziva proceeded to relate their past together, from their first meeting, being partners for eight years, and the strong feelings they both felt for each other, but were never able to actually make into anything more than friendship; their high points and their low points. Tony asked some questions when he wanted more clarification. Ziva concluded, "When you left Israel and returned home, I had made the decision that I needed to find my own way in my new life so … I cut off all contact with everyone. You had all tried at one time or another to email or call or write, but I did not respond to any of you. Not even to the drunken phone call you left me a year later saying that this would be the last call you would ever make and if I did not respond I could consider myself out of your life forever."

"And did you?"

She looked ashamed, "I did not."

"So that explains the anger then."

"Yes and I am so sorry Tony. I know it was selfish but I had made a new life for myself here, new friends, new job, new … morals I guess. I was afraid if I let you, _any_ of you, back in my life I would slip back to who I was. I could not allow myself to do that. I had been in a very dark place and I refused to allow myself to be dragged back to the darkness. Not that any of you were the cause, but you were the reminders. Besides, by the time you had called I had met … someone else and he did not know about my previous profession and I wanted to keep it that way. And I did not know how to tell you so … I just chose not to."

"How ironic, you didn't want the memories but have to live with them, I want them but had them wiped out."

"I am so sorry you have to go through this Tony. I wish there was something more I could do to help you."

Tony sat silently in his kitchen, taking in everything this woman had told him. This was obviously one of the "complicated" relationships Abby had hinted at the day before.

"So we danced around each other for eight years before I finally got up the nerve to kiss you and then I walked away and we never spoke again."

She let out a small laugh, "Well yes, that is it in a sea shell."

"Nut shell," Tony corrected her not realising how common that had been in their past.

He saw her smile on the screen and tears come into her eyes, "Yes, nut shell."

"So, with all that secrecy and cutting yourself off, are you happy?" he asked, genuinely hoping she was.

She paused as she thought about the answer, "Yes, I think I am. I am married now," she held her hand up to the camera to show a golden wedding ring, and then placed her hands on her stomach "and we are expecting our first child in four months. I eventually told him all about my past and what I have done and … he still loves me."

Tony smiled, glad that she had found the life she had tried so hard, and sacrificed so much to achieve, "Well I'm happy for you then."

"Toda," she said in her native tongue.

"Al-Le-Davar," he responded without thinking.

"You remember your Hebrew?" she asked surprised.

"I didn't even know I knew Hebrew until just then," he smiled at the surprise.

"Well, I should go, it is very late here and I have an early appointment with my … what is the word for baby doctor?" she clicked her fingers trying to think of the English word.

"Obstetrician," Tony responded, again without thought.

"Yes, obstetrician," Ziva paused again, staring at Tony half a world away.

"You are my one regret Tony, my constant 'What if?'"

"Well think yourself lucky you only have one, I know nothing about my life but I already have too many 'What ifs?' on my mind."

"Take care of yourself and hopefully, we will see each other again one day."

"Who knows what could happen Ziva, the last couple of months have proved that to me the hard way."

"Take care of yourself Tony and I promise, if you write, I will write you back."

"Sounds like a deal. Goodbye Ziva."

"Goodbye Tony." Tony disconnected the call and realised that he would not write to her. While it was nice to put that puzzle piece into place, he also knew that it was something in his past he didn't need to revisit. He had no memory of that woman, other than knowing he had had feelings for her, probably even loved her, but those feelings had faded well before he had lost his memories and he had moved on. Now he needed to move on again.

"Are you OK Tony?" Tim asked from the doorway, he had heard the conversation end and was wondering how Tony was going to react; knowing how painful his separation from Ziva had been when she left the team.

"Yeah, I'm good. She seemed like a nice lady," Tony said.

Tim let out a little laugh, realising that Tony _wasn't_ about to burst into tears over his lost love, "Yeah she was. She was great." They left that comment hang in the air, both thinking about the raven-haired beauty, Tim recalling fond memories, Tony wondering 'what if?'

"Anyway, we need to get going I guess. You have your doctors appointments this morning and Gibbs has asked me to drive you to NCIS so …"

"Right, Ok, well, let's go then Tom."

"Tim," McGee corrected, until he saw Tony grinning. "You did that on purpose didn't you."

"I don't know what you mean Tito."

"Tim."

"Sorry about that Toby …"

McGee couldn't help the grin that broke out across his face. They may not be the McNicknames, but they were close enough. Tony was coming back.


	25. Chapter 25

**AN: So here is the penultimate chapter of my story. Hope you like it. See you back here same time tomorrow for final chapter celebrations :-)**

 **Chapter 25:**

The elevator dinged and Tony and McGee stepped out of the elevator onto the squad room floor. Tony looked around at the orange walls and the bright skylight above, a flash of memory came back to him, _he looked up at the roof and told the man standing beside him "not a big fan of the orange and the glare off that skylight's ridiculous!"_ and then the memory ended.

"You OK Tony," Tim asked when he realised Tony was no longer walking beside him.

"Hey, yeah, fine, McGoo I just had a … flash, that's all."

"What did you call me?"

Tony held up his hands in a defensive pose, "Hey sorry man, it just slipped out, I won't call you that again."

Tim smiled, "You can call me that any time you want to Tony," and then surprised both of them by throwing his arms around Tony and hugging him. Tony was shocked at first but hugged Tim back until it became obvious they were becoming the centre of attention.

"Hey Tim, maybe that's enough hey?"

Tim pulled back and saw the entire floor staring at them, whether they were staring at an unexpected and unusual moment between two fellow agents, or staring at a dead man come to life, Tim didn't know but he put on his best scowl and yelled, "Don't you all have work to do?"

The agents carried on with their work, but they all gave Tony a hand shake or a clap on the back as they went past, welcoming him back and saying they will catch up with him later when he was feeling better. Obviously they had all been talked to about not crowding Tony when he came back to the office.

"Hey Tony, nice to see you again man, you had us worried," Tony was greeted by a man a couple of inches taller than himself, curly hair unkempt and suit just shy of being neat and tidy, "I'm Ned … Ned Dorneget … you usually call me Dorney."

"Nice to meet you Dorney," Tony said as he shook the man's hand. He had a fondness for this man but not as strong as he held for the others he had met so far. Tony looked down at the desk that Dorney had walked out from behind. He liked that desk … no he _loved_ that desk. That desk was … what? Home! It was weird, but Tony felt more strongly about this five-foot by four-foot area in this tangerine coloured, blindingly bright squad room, than he had about his own apartment. His apartment was a place he went to be alone, and revive, but this … this was where he _lived!_ And in that moment, he knew that this is where he needed to be, he needed to back in this orange room, sitting behind this non descript desk, under this ridiculous skylight, doing … what ever the hell it was he used to do.

He walked behind the desk and took a seat, not noticing the stares of his team mates as he lovingly ran his hands over his desk, spun on the chair, and leant back with his arms folded behind his head and his feet up on the desk.

"Comfortable DiNozzo," Gibbs asked from in front of his desk.

"More comfortable than anytime since I woke up," Tony responded without so much as a flinch. The old DiNozzo would have jumped up at Gibbs words, pretending he was scared of this intimidating man, giving his teammates a laugh at his expense, but the new Tony? The new Tony knew he had no reason to fear Gibbs, had no idea he was supposed to put on a show for his friends. "This is where I belong isn't it."

Gibbs smiled, "Yes it is, and now, we start the job of getting you back there. Are you ready for that Tony?"

"I am Gibbs," Tony responded. "But…"

After Tony hesitated Gibbs had to ask, "But what?"

"But this can't be everything. I mean, obviously work has been … everything to me until now. I mean; this is the place I have felt most comfortable since I woke up, not even my home felt like this. But that has to change. When I woke up all I thought about was, 'do I have a family?' 'do I have anyone out there missing me?' and when I found out I didn't … it hurt. It hurt a lot. Obviously I want … I _need_ … more than just this." Tony swung his feet of the desk and leant in closer when he continued, "I spoke to Ziva this morning, she said you had let her know I was, well, not dead… and she told me about us and how it had taken eight years for us to get … nowhere as it turns out. I can't believe I wasted so much time on chasing down something I obviously wanted. Why would I do that?" Tony asked.

Gibbs was obviously getting uncomfortable with Tony's emotional questions and he could see McGee, Bishop and Dorneget all pretending not to listen while not actually missing a word of their conversation. But then he remembered his conversation with Tony's father from last night when he told the senior DiNozzo to step up. Well, now was Gibbs time to step up.

"Aw geez Tony," Gibbs said as he walked around the desk and took a seat on the corner to give the men some privacy. "Look, I'm not the best one to talk to about relationships and stuff, you don't remember but I have three divorces under my belt, but … Ziva wasn't the first call I made last night."

"She wasn't?" Tony asked.

"No, there is someone else, someone I think you might have, maybe … Geez, you liked her OK. You liked her a lot," Gibbs stood up and walked away, no longer able to hold up his end of the bargain. Small steps were required for Gibbs to go from stand offish Gibbs to warm and fuzzy Gibbs.

"Who?" Tony asked his retreating back.

"Me," came a voice from behind him. He turned in his chair to see a gorgeous brunette with the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen. His heart stopped beating for a second then came back faster than ever. He stood and walked around the patrician to stand in front of her.

"Hi," he said and smiled. He didn't know her, couldn't remember anything, but he loved her, there was no doubt about that.

"I'm Zoe," she stared up at him her brown eyes shimmering with emotion.

"Hi Zoe," his eyes shimmered with hers.

"I was in Jamaica when Gibbs called. You had always told me that when you retire you wanted to move to Jamaica. I've been there since … I was told you were dead. I wanted to grieve somewhere I would feel closer to you."

She had reached up and gently cupped his face with her hands. A flash of memory hit him again, _'I love you Tony, but I can't do this anymore. I can't have you always shut down on me or throw up your walls when you are angry or upset. You need to_ talk _to me; you need to_ trust _me! If you can't do that, then I don't see how we can be together anymore.'_

Tony stared into Zoe's eyes, "I do trust you and I will talk to you."

She gasped, "You remember?"

"I remember you broke up with me and it hurt … it hurt a _lot!"_

"I didn't want to do that you know. I didn't want to leave you but you didn't leave me any choice."

"I know, trust me, I have learnt in the very short time I have been here that I wasn't one to let people know my secrets. As it turns out, now _I_ don't even know them. Maybe I can tell you all my new ones."

"That sounds good to me," Zoe said before pulling Tony's face to hers and kissing him lovingly.

Their kiss ended when they heard Gibbs loudly clear his throat beside them, "Sorry to break up this little romantic moment, but you Tony, have an appointment to get to."

"Right," he turned to Zoe, "so I'll call you later."

She snorted and wiped away a tear that had fallen, "Huh, if you think I am letting you out of my sight DiNozzo, then what is left of that brain matter isn't worth keeping. I'm coming with you and I will be with you every step of the way from this moment on, OK."

"You're feisty … I like feisty," he took her hand and turned to Gibbs, "Looks like we are ready."

Gibbs smiled, "Good to know," and he took them to what would be the first of many doctors' appointments and psychotherapy sessions to get Tony back behind that desk that felt like home.


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26:**

It had been nineteen months, one week, and three days since he woke up. And today was the best day of those six hundred and fourteen days, today was the day he and his wife, Zoe welcomed their twins into the world.

It was also the same day he received notification that he was requalified as an NCIS Field Agent. Obviously the birth of his children was the more momentous and emotional happening, but he would be lying if he said that receiving that email this morning hadn't bought a tear to he eye.

The last year and a half had been hard, probably the hardest of his life, not that he had any benchmark to compare it too, but his friends did and he could tell that they knew this was hard too. After the initial joy at finding his home and his friends and family, it became obvious that there was more to his injury than just a few headaches and risk of seizure or two. It became fairly obvious within the first month that his TBI was also having an affect on his emotions and his ability to control them. The tears that flowed so freely during his search and reunion continued to flow freely, always just below the surface and with no memory of how he kept those tears in check, he struggled with them continuously.

And it wasn't just the tears, his emotions swung like the proverbial pendulum, from feeling happy and on top of the world to depths of despair he had never experienced before. Some days he had been so down he had wished he had just died that day in Seattle, wished he didn't have to deal with the loss and the emptiness that the lack of memories had bought to his life.

He would just lie in bed and hide under the covers, but then Zoe would come in, crawl under the covers of their new king sized bed and hold him, and he would keep his promise to her and tell her how he felt; how he was angry at what had happened to him, how he felt empty and how he wished he had died. She would hold him and let him cry it out and then she would get him up, get him dressed and take him to see someone; a friend, his father, even his psychiatrist if she thought it was that bad, and she would show him that he was loved, and even though he may not remember, they would remember for him and tell him stories of his antics and tell him how much he is loved still, and once again, he would feel stronger again, ready to fight one more day.

Other days a rage would come over him that would have him snapping and yelling at anyone who looked at him the wrong way. His hands would be clenched beside him, ready to strike out at any target. A rage he thought he would never control, and Gibbs would come and take him to the gym. The first time Gibbs got up into the ring with Tony and thought letting him take a few swings at him might make him feel better, Gibbs of course never threw a punch himself. It took two other agents to pull Tony off him that day and Gibbs ribs hurt for the next month and he sported a black eye for two weeks. That incident caused Tony to fall into another fit of depression that took him a week to crawl out of. After that Gibbs let Tony take out his frustrations on the punching bags.

The doctors had told them to expect these swings of emotion and his psychiatrist prescribed anti depressants and anti anxiety medication to help even out his swings as best they could. It was all part of his injury and part of his physical and emotional healing.

Eventually with the help of therapy, medications and even meditation, along with the physical healing of his brain, those moments of extreme emotions became less intense; and fewer and further apart, although bouts of these emotions would return sporadically for the rest of his life.

He had been off the seizure medication for over a year and had no seizures since. He had been retrained by NCIS in any area that was required, from firearms training, to investigation and forensic collection. He knew how to do the physical work, that had already been learnt and honed, but it was the laws, rules and acronyms he had to relearn. Anything that he had to think about rather than just _do._ Thankfully, his investigative skills were a natural gift, so he no problems with that part of his job. In fact, while he was on desk duty, he solved two closed cases that had had the team stumped for years. He had also had sessions with the NCIS psychologist, who in conjunction with his personal psychiatrist, had agreed when he was mentally strong enough to return, not just to working at the office, but now he had been told he was ready to return to the field. But there _were_ restrictions.

His mood swings made him unpredictable in interrogation now, so it was decided that part of his job would be off limits. Interrogating suspects was a trigger for his emotions and it was hard to convince a criminal how tough you are if you are crying in the corner, or worse, trying not to get sued by suspects when the rage took over and you had to be restrained before you beat the snot out of them. He was able to observe all interrogations and his skill at people watching and picking up on subtle nuances was still a valuable asset to the team.

There were also limits to be applied in the field. Firstly he was always to be supervised. He was allowed to collect the evidence at the crime scenes and perform those usual duties, he was also allowed to question witnesses and take their statements, but when it came to facing possible suspects and maybe having to chase them down, or draw his weapon, this part of his job was to be off limits where the situation was to be expected. While he carried his weapon for unpredictable situations, it was up to his team and his boss to make sure he was never in a situation where he might have to pull it as best they could. He was also to be reassessed monthly and any emotional instability was to be reported back to the NCIS psychologist immediately.

As frustrating as these limitations might have been, more so to his teammates than to Tony himself who could not remember ever actually doing the work before, it was the only way he would be allowed to continue in any semblance of fieldwork. Hopefully some of these restrictions could be lifted in the future and eventually he could perform the job as he used to… Hopefully.

It certainly hadn't all been rainbows and candy since he came home; far from it. But his hard work over the last year and a half was paying off. In some ways, he was still the old Tony, always happy to make people laugh, even at his own expense, but in many ways he was very, very different. There was an openness and honesty that had never been there before. Now that he no longer had the memory of the various losses and hurt he had suffered ever since he was a child, he no longer felt the need to hold people at arms length, or to put on a mask and show them only a snippet of his true self. He was warm and welcoming and more than happy to lend an ear or a shoulder to anyone who needed emotional support, be they friend or victims of crime. He also loved to hug people. The Tony you got now was the true Tony DiNozzo. Tony 2.0 as Abby referred to him.

And now new memories were formed to take the place of those he had lost. Memories of he and Zoe making love, or going away for a weekend together, or looking down at that pregnancy test and seeing those two red lines; memories of his friends at work as they encouraged him when he retrained for his old job, or when they took him out for dinner and drinks after work; memories of he and his father talking long into the night, looking at old family photos his father had brought over and talking about his mother and the times before the bad, and sometimes they would even talk about the bad times too.

Now he had the best memory of them all, the memory of the birth of his children. A boy and a girl, could it be more prefect than that? He didn't think so.

He still hates the people who did this to him, punched him from behind with no warning. A coward's punch Gibbs called it, and he was right. The men who did this were cowards. But they were now paying the price; the boys responsible were behind bars and would be for a long time, not for life perhaps, but a fair chunk of their young lives. The trial had been hard. Having to face those responsible and try and keep his emotions at bay while he gave his testimony. Unfortunately, when it came to defence and the cross examination his emotions boiled over and the rage and the tears flowed. Rather than hurt his case though, this display actually helped as it showed the jury exactly how much change had occurred to this man. A man that other witnesses had said was so funny and controlled and calm before that night. They could see that this man no longer could control his emotions; they could see the anger and more importantly the _fear_ that this loss of memory caused. The jury took less than two hours to reach their guilty verdict.

But considering everything he had lost, the pain and fear his friends and family had gone through … now he was here, were he had always wanted to be. A great job, great friends and a family he loved and who still loved him, even with the changes. Maybe it had worked out for the best but then maybe he could have had this without losing himself. Everyone had told him he had been working on bettering himself before this happened; maybe he could have agreed to be more honest and open with Zoe without having to wipe out his entire history, without having to reboot his entire life. Zoe had confessed to him that that she made the decision to take him back, maybe even beg him if he was reluctant, but the very next day she got that fateful call informing her he was dead.

The point was the chance to find out was taken from him. It was taken from him, all because some teens wanted to buy some weed and booze. That was the bit he couldn't get over. That was the part that caused his blood to boil and the rage to encompass him again. He was working with his psychiatrist about coping mechanisms and they were helping … for the most part. But sometimes the enormity of the loss he suffered, and would continue to suffer for the rest of his life, because of those kids and one cowardly punch was too much to bear.

It was those thoughts that saw him still battle with bouts of depression and occasionally the rage, he probably always would, and even holding his little girl in his arms and listening to her coo in her sleep while watching his wife feed their son he still had to ask, were they worth the loss he had suffered?

 **AN: Well that is it folks. That is the end of Cowards Punch. The idea of this story came up when here in Australia we were having a spate of drunken fights where people would just walk up to a stranger and just punch them. It became known in the media as a "cowards punch" because they refused to use the grander term "king hit". It also bought about the "one punch can kill" campaign. Many of the people in these incidents died, and many more have suffered the same brain damage that I have shown Tony to have. I also wanted to show Tony in a way where all his masks and walls were stripped away and showed my version of what a raw Tony was like. Anyway, that was my little plot bunny influence.**

 **I would also like to thank everyone who took the time to review my story, even if you only did it once it was greatly appreciated. Also a shout out to my regular reviewers: Fred, DS2010, TonysSilverFox, Dls, VG Littlebear, LAG0802, TheNaggingCube, CombatCrazy, bobdog54, TranceTony1228, Therocketscientist, queenbee1711, Jesco123, Darkwriter69, laurab, nando2K50 and a special thank you to Arcwdof1 who helped me out with the fingerprint issue. Also, to the regular "guest" reviewers. Your feedback was so very much appreciated and spurred me on.**

 **I do have another Tony centric story in the works, working title "What's in a Name" so make sure you tick author alerts so you get the email when that is posted.**

 **Again big thank you to anyone who took the time to read my story.**

 **Ciao**

 **Donna**


End file.
